Almost Christmas
It’s been december first for too long I said
her north stars glaring out a candlelit glass pane
I sat under the stone ledge of your window
watching the brilliant movies projected from your eyes
on the scarred buildings across from your cloud on 9th
you could say I had been asking for you all year
the presents that hid behind your collarbones
and pressed against your back
could be just what I had asked for
or they could be clothes
and the air conditioned room where we would finally be
morning breath and bloodshot stargazers
hung above the tree
like the millennium ball
it would take 18 christmas miracles for this
to be everything I had written down
without crashing bank computers
or burning my black book
cause every summer sun and autumn breeze
tempted me to unwrap you
but i never had the guts to admit to myself
i thought you more holy to me
wearing my belt as a halo
undress me with your steely fingers
I
paid the matchmaker to make us sinners
let me
unzip your neck so you can’t say no
kick the oil drum before we stop drop and roll
and don’t you dare call me the arsonist
when you were the one
who confused my mattress
for a bed of coals
you see i was every bottom listed kid
who’s been getting nothing in the morning
because of the nights we weren’t alone
and i know
not asking you to stay was enough
for it to mean i was screaming
get the fuck out when you’re done
i should’ve told you
to make more noise at 4am
i hated knowing
that my only commitment to you
was your hair in my empty hands when I awoke
that i couldn’t coax my dreams into making you a bed sheet
i looked for you every morning when I awoke
like my father’s briefcase
or my mother’s wrist
because my hazel, junkyard eyes are telescope-lensed and white walled
for distance
I look for arrogant bones and wrenched-geared lockjaws for safety
and I take rides alone at sunset in us
in you
i can see you
getting up from the avalanche
where we both should have swallowed mountains of snow
until our bellies agreed we should die on separate sides of the pillow
and disintegrate into separate solar systems
did you know it would have ended
february
how far we got
before we wiped the song lyrics from our eyes
and pressurized the autumn air in our lungs
so i could never take your breath away again
was this poem the concrete bucket under my heels
should we have just died that december
instead of becoming bullets on a christmas list
right now you are
neatly folded
double sided
completely creased
and wrinkle free
wrapping paper
under the sink
where I wash my hands of things
and I am waiting to see my name on Saint Nick’s list
so I can get wrapped up in you and present myself to the universe
the tag will read:
here is something beautiful
here is something that took 40 years to make
2 years to wrap
16 seconds to seal with a kiss
and a week of unanswered txt messages
for me to decide
to give you
I hope you like it
in case you don’t
save the paper
and return the gift
