if a violet sky night
I strive to catch your name in the breeze
hold it like a child
or a half-finished song

the only touch to start
is mental, feel you in my vessels
and let my lungs bathe
in the promise you spoke

is this electric or just
ourselves getting used  
to new furniture, fruit and yé-yé
but Christmas not for months

by twelve we beg
to crackle with anticipation
a tear stain on an open window
one of us sockless, bleary-eyed