A Heap Of Broken Images

[greenstorm]

Outside: cold rain
My hands burn after the cold rain outside
I love you, O bare-legged bodybuilder in wintercoat and scarf
Scent is so intimate on wet air, even cold wet air that has been
Moistened by the warming ice-water.
Sweat is acid, bitter, musty like old winter sweaters from a box
And awoken from my hat band by the rain.
The bus lays me in the cold road
Lays me in the ice-water rain
Before the cracked sidewalks which lead me home
To a streetlight, faux-moonlight, shining into the kitchen.