December Lights

December Lights

Back then, under a cold

December sun

you’d arrived naked

as a rose.  I’d ask

for permission

so you could to stay under

my shadow.  

You’d close your eyes

and open your skin,

the perennial light of desire,

to walk me through

brief appearances

of galaxies, infinite transit

of heartbeats, as if death

was strolling

between our legs

and something rained

on my face.