Combed blackberries from its beard all night.
The field by our woods was drenched with cold dew.
By morning our room was filled with many breaths.
By this time we were already married.
The top drawer of the chest
Ticked under its own weight as we slept,
Packed with ice.
I got up quietly to check.
Yes, digging in I discovered
Fish laid neatly in rows.
My purple lips turned
And found you in the dark.
Outside a cloud shaped like Myra
Hung above the hill,
Watching our window, unlit.
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