Yule tirade is over and gone
With the mystic mountains all
Snow-laden
Crushed underneath a cotton
Wave of sky
On the other side of the
Window I sit with a towel
Draped over my thighs
I cheated on the sky with the sea
I felt his waves crash against me
And my dry phalanges began to
Prune
Within the thick fog that I
Drove straight through
Was just a few hours ago
I slept in the same bed
With someone I've never
Met before
23 years old with a beard
The shade of cherry wine
I bit his sinewy neck
And dazed upon the Winter sky
He suffers from anxiety attacks
He told me-
As we shared a cigarette-
He's staying with his parents
Because he has no job
And they have a cleaning lady
But it's really just the next-door
Neighbor he said
He likes folk music and
Dresses like a lumberjack