Two Summers

Quick bang the screen door

off leash creatures,

loosely woven, unwound peels

set upon the counter

warm floors and the ease of every

free limb

How happy now for no

closed rooms, shut in,

smeared across your surface,

no order to wait, wet

hand at my throat’s ribbon

The goodness of skin

without flare, mouth rubbed

red-raw, an agreement to hide

from all the real seasons