Cold Feet

Toes are aching and

Planting, replanting

On linoleum, no soil here

Just “daylight” from

the glass

Above your head

And his

The light paints

Black in his creases

Releasing the night

Found in his iris

darkness spills

into your awaiting

gaze, which is

yawning,

gaping

And the ache

Is spreading like

The hands on your

Shoulders, then back

Your feet now grounded,

Stuck and

Soiled

like the lips

That taste you