Kristiana Colón
Kristiana Colón
In Winter

When the heater
sparked the carpet we dreamed
of the east, Egypt, sphinxes,
hippopotami thrashing
in courtyard fountains,
palace marble and sand

In his I was Jasmine naked
and we moaned the moon full

In mine we kayaked the Nile
but got lost in tangled mangroves

The pain dissolved in the dust
of loving slumber;
the black mattress framed
our bones melted to ampersand.
Hands knotted at knuckles,
we held through flames.