Photo from @banannasui.
Waffle-fry footprints on snow,
indelible breasts bounce in red turtlenecks,
dog collars tinkle to the wayside,
fur hatfuls of flasks.
Sun sleeps warm in cloud blankets,
armpits rub in frictionful nudity,
yellowbellied children race with
ambulances nearby,
and you yawn in the pitch of the gas
heat. Small wonders glisten in eyes
furrowed in the black keys of February.
I will go down for you, freeze
fingers for you. Thighs dislocate
thighs and fingerprints trace fogged
glass for you. Seven thousand flakes
keep you from cars and cancers. Every
tendon in your hand is my God.