New Poem : First Snow

First Snow

You join me outside.
Both of us are bare-chested,
cold as ghosts.

We wanted to feel the sky
coming down.

It’s been waiting for us
to go to sleep you tell me.

There is blood on your teeth
from where you brushed them
too hard and too fast so you could
leave the warmth of the house.

We watch the dog move down the slope
of the garden, across the fields, towards
a blackened space of knotted trees
and dense undergrowth .

He is sleek and low and long, moving
like his ancestors moved two hundred years ago.

We know what he hopes to find there,
deep in the black woods.

I move, just ever so slightly, stay you say.
a slight touch of panic to your voice.

As if I would miss this for a touch of frostbite.

You pull me to you. Your chest is solid.
It’s like a different country.

I shuffle in close, so close we could be
counted as one not two individuals.

You catch the first piece of sky on your hand
and hold it out to me, take it, you say. It’s yours.

We watch my gift lose its jagged pattern
and melt into the creases of my palm.

And then the rest of the sky comes down,
and we kiss until our mouths burn.

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