The stuff that comes out a bird's mouth.
behind me the cat sleeps
on a little fleece bed
i can see her breathing
in that almost imperceptible
mockery of slow motion
i just wanted to remind you
that there is something warm here
with a beating heart
and it doesn’t matter
the size of the muscle
she wrapped the scarf
around his neck
and then around her own
the red scarf
was long enough
and the weather
cool enough
to warrant such a thing
no need to bundle up
under the full weight
no need to bear it
all on her own
so much better to
share the warmth
to create a short
woolen bridge
between them
as they sat and watched
the sun go down
the beautiful immediacy of your hands
compels me to remember how cold they were
that first time i took one in my own
and we initiated a transfer of body heat
from my palm to yours
as if my blood sang a song
and your heart sang
the chorus at first
and then the harmony
until we were the same temperature
a rustle of fabric
your hair
against the side of my face
the warmth
of you pressing against me
the forever breath
i hold
to stop time
rain
and you and me sitting
next to each other on the couch
not worrying about the drains
and not worrying about the gutters
and not worrying about the sirens
and not worrying about driving
and not worrying about anything
the warmth of the two of us
hotter where we press together
almost unbearably hot
winter
the new sheets go on the bed
flannel to keep out the cold
but still you inch toward me for warmth
seek out my feet with your own icy toes
and shiver
against my chest
