Variations on Milk and Cookies

At the tender age of three I set out

A 10-piece bucket of extra-crispy KFC

And red Kool-Aid in a Dixie cup. At five

It was carrots for the reindeer,

A Slim-Fast for Santa,

After reading about congenital heart failure.

At nine I left eggnog and waffles, afraid

Of being different, but at twelve

It was a fifth of Gentleman Jack and a half-eaten 

Stick of beef jerky. 

Every Christmas morning I found the coffee table

Strewn with crumbs, watermarks, a note

Greasy with fingerprints. 

Each year I read the note on the bathroom floor and cried

Because Santa watched me grow up

And didn't do a damn thing

To stop it. 

Abandon your sense of decorum or you'll never get out alive

There was a sliver of moon
And fifty-six stars sewn like diamonds
To the dress shirt of the night sky.
I buried my hands in my pockets
And counted so I wouldn’t have to look at you,
So handsome in the weak light,
Wouldn’t have to breathe the thick air between us
Or watch as our worlds pushed us apart
Again.
You said you’d cry watching me walk away
So I backed away instead,
Watching you. Watching me.
The coach pulled away and I smelled you on my skin,
Stood up to blow you a kiss
With your girlfriend right beside you.
It’s a shame, I thought, that you’re with her
And thinking of me,
And I’ll never really know
If the kiss bounced off a window or landed
At your girlfriend’s feet and she, not knowing
The damage, gave it to you anyway.

three days before the end of the semester

Fifteen minutes pass so fast

with your breath on my lips

and your heart pounding in my hand.

We lie on the damp ground staring

at where the stars should be

behind the canopy of leaves that traps our breath around us, 

presses us into each other. 

You whisper and I tangle my fingers

in your hair and listen;

there is nothing more than your voice

and the sky and the dreamcatcher

hanging from a branch high above us. 

I catch your breath on my tongue, kiss

that soft place on your neck one last time.

Your lips form "I love you" but the wind

steals the words and braids them into the branches I can't reach.

All I want is your voice in my ear, 

your hands in my hair, the wind

whistling through the space between our bodies

like the song I'll never get out of my head.