Candy canes like flowers sprouted
up and out of sandy plains and
Santa landed squarely, barely
visible.

             My head contains
confessions, but my heart is not
cathartic, and when tears impress
complexion marks like artists' pens
against my face, they start to blend.

                                                        But
Rudolph never pulled a sleigh of
mayors to the capitol, and
Blitzen never severed several
thousand Native captives' calls,
'cause elves are made like Cherokee:
with bones, and eyes, and hearts, and backs that
bleed when they are stabbed.