We took off our clothes as fall drifted into winter,
the opaque stockings floated from my shivering legs
like leaves, unsure which dirty plot of land would be
their hibernating home.
We lost ourselves to the dirt
and you fell into sleep so quickly and with so much
blissful weight that I wonder why the same wind
didn't carry me to the same subconscious nights.
Rather, I sit winking in the still air beside your glowing body,
a leaf full of holes and clinging to some branch.
I turn my lovely colors and pass on here
and it is a slow, deep, sighing season,
until the spring comes, the way it always does,
and we wake from the icy bed and dress --
I wrap the black stockings around my dirty, crinkled legs
and watch your new green body drift away
toward the trees.
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