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There was warfare someplace on the information.
Every day. In America. On the border.
War locked away within the darkened envelope
of our stirred, combusting minds.
Winter arrived late with its diaphanous
wings & unsalted sidewalks bandaged
with new snow. Dish racks I organized in
the pantry glistened with dry crusts the place
baked bread or croissants ought to have
been. In the week of energy outages,
within the 12 months of starvation, all we had was love,
its fused & infinite grammar, its moist eyes
& tenderness for days. This will do, I stated
to my boyfriend, as he rinsed the dishes
within the sink, as I shoveled the in a single day
snow crowding out the sidewalk.
This & maybe your arm hanging down my
shoulder & staying there just a little longer will do.