it's getting colder.

This creeping love,
this wine-drunk stumble
with a full glass and empty stomach
this light in my chest.
It keeps the goosebumps,
keeps the shakes,
but removes the cold.
It keeps the clothes, the snow,
the look-out-from-under-eyelashes seduction,
that twists me until
my throat must be near my ankles.
my liver must be in my mouth.
I am upside-down,
I am spun,
I am diluted and strained -
and pure.
I am the snow behind you,
background to the beauty,
observer, the lucky,
the beneath-feet lover
and the backseat watcher,
wakeful and waiting.
And your frame fits firm in my frail arms,
and the flooding strength fills me,
renders me safe.