—OH, I HATE SURPRISES. BUT YOU SURPRISE ME

 

 

  December

     (after Merle Haggard)

 

if we make it

through December

I’ll rest my head

in your lap

when you let me

look up at the underside

of your pointed chin

pull your thighs and cheeks

tight to my cheek

revel in the warmth of us

that’s survived

another apocalypse

I might even

lift my lips to that

point in your neck

which juts out

just barely

like a flint

or kneecap

needing attention

I’ve never loved

a bone so much

seems a lot like me

out of place and

out of touch

lonely as fuck

lean down a little

won’t you

it’s time we both

learned how to

save us  

one touch at a time

because December’s

taking root

and Spring’s not

far away