--clip.--

here were things I wanted to say tonight
Items to be addressed,
Undressed, named
--Back in my room,
I knew there would be warmth
And nearly clean sheets
Waiting.
Blocked up thoughts and this radiant ink
Would flow,
And all the 15 minutes
Would be mine.
Walking home,
I thought of policies,
Salutations and goodbyes.
Of dark, thick-smelling rooms,
And windows,
And you,
maybe,
Standing behind the dirty glass
--To the side, not to be seen,
Perhaps picking up things from the table,
Trying not to feel,
That you were, indeed,
Standing off to one side
Hot breath showing up white
Against the glass--
Watching me.
And no,
I DID NOT saunter.
The movement of my upper thighs
Was balanced, regular,
Standard--this I can assure.
I walked straight.
Drove my cold feet
Down
Into the crackling, silver miracle of snow.
I did, thought,
For marks
And as answers to questions
Nobody asked,
Twirl this scarf,
You touched the material
--thick, lush, purple,
But not me.