Sunday, November 29, 2009

i'm a satellite heart

My breath makes spherical shapes in the cold, love. I'm moistening my lips, readying myself as I walk, no float, towards you. The stars are crisp and I float briskly. My heart is twice its size. I know you'll have the Casorzo ready, and a fire burning so I can dry my hat and scarf and boots that the snow has made wet. I'll sit with my legs folded, my braided pigtails shining in the orange light. You can watch my eyes catch glimpses of different things in the room, and the plush rug where my socked feet rest will change its colors as we converse through the starry night. The wood will die, but we'll be long gone by then, asleep and away, adjusted to each other's fetal shapes. I'll hold your hand, maybe, perhaps, when I'm too unconscious to tell the difference between right and wrong.
These thoughts fill me up with warmth as I float towards you.

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