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Channel: Writings for Winter
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we listen to thunderstorms as religiously as rock & roll

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Last night you dreamt you pulled the moon from the sky

and slid it into a waiting canoe, towed it down the river

until it stole out of sight;

I’ve never seen someone who wears darkness so well

like a second skin

that never needs dry-cleaning.

When you watch hockey you always cheer too loud

and we eat raspberries cold from the fridge

as a substitute for kissing one another

whenever we’re having a fight.

Sometimes I send you postcards in the mail

even though we live in the same house

because I like to watch you open them up

and wonder who they’re from.

You have a birthmark on your left thigh

that looks like a red nebula; I like pretending

I gave it to you so that even when you live

on the other side of the planet,

you’ll still have something left

to remember me by.


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