I've taken you
to the farthest off places
where Christmas lights exist
and Lucifer is beautiful
behind his red hell of decor;
 
a  c  r  o  s  s my arms
are tracks of splendor delights
where reindeers
have left their hooves
imprinted upon my skin ~
pores suckle, breathe, siphon
and taste like sugar plum drops
when you finger them
[Rudolph's poison, that is];
 
many nights
I've tried to suspend
my hair into a magical wreath
made of sap & poinsettias
just to allow the dandruff
to create a winter wonderland
upon the Angelic Devil
sitting on my frail shoulders ~
but you no longer desire to touch me
to kiss me, open mouth, spacious      and       wide
'cause you said that the fire raging
on my bro ke'n tongue
heats your senses - - erogenous
and you just couldn't bare another rape;
 
so you give me a gift for all seasons plaguing me
you want to make up for the disdaining 
of not torturing me, sympathetically
and it's wrapped mysteriously in a shoebox ~I assumed~
because of it's narrowed oddity...the size of my feet
I place it against my heart
and feel the beat[ing] ~
 
God & Damn (you),
suddenly I'm cold outside...
eyes cocoon in sockets
then bear wings
[like gifts
from the 3 Wise[est] Kings]
and fly south
to your winter
in search
of the north pole,
in search
of what makes
 
 
since.