You didn't like the sun
with your pale skin,
your vampire affectation
for love bites over kisses,
your dark clothes in summertime,
your trick of hiding
your face behind your long hair.
To make it cosy,
to make you happy,
I lit a fire
on a summer evening,
let the warm sunlight
strain against the curtain,
put on a CD
of Christmas music.
We lay on the carpet,
the out of season heat
melting our clothes off
like presents opening,
like Christmas crackers
quietly exploding.
Sun, 2018-01-07 11:53
Report SPAM #1
164th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: CHRISTMAS IN JULY