Fresh
Fresh like babies' breath
Snow babies that gurgle on rooftops
and have shat a white town blanket
Babies' breath at the backs of your knees
Fresh like a foghorn. The days are getting short
and the lights are turning on.
Girls, well
Girls get titilated every winter
every winter
Gasping sobs and a tear-streaked face
replaces
with long awaited lips landing lightly on a jaw
Girls get emotional every winter
and babies get possesed with regreats
Gurgling and cooing
screaming "why did I do it?"