December 14, 2010 § Leave a comment
Cold moans through the slats of the shutters. I open the window and watch the branches swing into my room. Black shadows sweeping. Ive lost my socks and my shoes are all too heavy to wear tonight.
Do you have a scarf, a cup of coffee, a white light over the shoulders? Let me get you a glass of water, a dried iris.
Wait, i ask, what did you think when you and your brothers were standing there naked, the first time you had seen each others’. What did you think?
“That I was the oldest.”
I laugh rolling over the words. You can be so cold.