January- chilly sad and hungover
she distorts what she can get her hands on
but behind glazed over eyes, she laughs
she becomes frostbite
IN THE BATHROOM CARVING HOLIDAY DESIGNS

February- he tries to write you a song
but runs out of inspiration
he hides from the answers to his unasked questions
he learns not to dare the cold anymore
WHEN LOVE IS GONE, WHERE DOES IT GO

March- strong as a lion and as modest as a lamb,
she spends her time in the waiting room
WE MUST GET OLDER NOW (please) WAKE UP

April- watering the flowers with her tears
she knows her current misery will bring beauty one day
HOPE THAT SOMETHING PURE CAN LAST

May- our ray of light
smiling listening and unique
she is the sweetest thing we await
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FACE WE HAVE FOUND IN THIS PLACE (and be gone from me)

June-he's silent and observant
his presence feels like a dream
he drinks your beer
stomps out a song and peacefully sleeps on your kitchen floor
THIS IS THE ROOM ONE AFTERNOON I KNEW I COULD LOVE YOU

July- she is bloated and hot
with sticky watermelon lips
lost in a ridiculous obsession with love and books and hammocks
she drunkenly whispers her secrets to the woods
AS I RECALL OUR SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT IN THE SUMMERTIME

August- she is warm loyal and reckless
you love her Sunday presence
but fear when she has to leave
she is meant for bigger things
PLEASE REMEMBER ME (happily, fondly, mistakenly)

September-  August's silent shadow
He loves her so
but can't find the courage to tell her
He never had a voice
He lives his life beautifully and tragically unannounced
HER LAUGHTER ECHOED THROUGH THE EMPTY STREETS

October- he is the perfect fall picnic
swinging from trees and supporting the year with his humor
he tells us the end is almost here and we shouldn't take life too seriously
he lights the flame and he couldn't be happier
I AM YOUNG AND I AM NAIVE TELL ME SOMETHING I WILL BELIEVE

November- a tall and gangly memory from a time before
looking for oblivious love to defend
at this point in the year
he deserves someone to call a family
he takes a nap and doesn't care to awaken
NOT MUCH HAIR LEFT ON HIS HEAD, ATE A SLICE OF WONDERBREAD (i loved you first)

December- ghosts float in bulbs and holiday punch
the empty buzz of the heater reminds us that we may never know true silence
RETURN TO SISTER WINTER (i apologize)