warming-

four in the morning in the Walmart parking lot
tired and silly and he makes my throat gurgle with laughter.
we sit on the trunk of his car,
tickling and teasing, edging closer and closer and watching the sky.
"when i was younger," he says, "it was
dead animals and untouchable objects."
we drive in the dark, hands nervous
and shy smiles.
parking lots and the hood of his car
go together like angels and wings.
at Dunkin' Donuts i eat two and a half of those
glazed sweetbreads, licking my fingers and
trying his cherry danish. i drink one large cup of coffee
which shows no effect.
we cuddle, i pull him closer to keep out the chill
to feel his weight against me.
the sky lightens and the stars disappear like dinosaurs.
"we should drive to Kentucky and see the sun rise" we say
but only hold onto each other a little tighter,
and retreat to the car with shivery, goose bump flesh.
to clouds spread golden wings.
i touch the nape of his neck with my palm.
sweet flesh, sweet smile, kind delicate hands.
at my door in the early morning light i cling to him,
to the surreal hours, the underwater feelings, the butterflies
in my stomach, the smell of his hair, the stubble on his jaw,
close my eyes and i am no longer cold.

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