Spend some silence on me--
I can be bought with door knobs
and keys bent into promise rings.

have i told you about how i
am enamored of the possibility 
of you and me in a room?
lock the front door behind you--
has no one warned you yet about winter?
if you don't lock your doors
death can find us as unaware as 
scrambled eggs--
he spoons mashed potatoes 
from a cloud-- boils the gravy
in the mud--
winter is looking for a cold
place to hold himself--
he finds no more use
for blankets or layers of filo dough--
it is alright to feel bad for him--
he mistakes porches for
confessionals-- attempts to brew holy water
in milk and lavender from the gutters--
here inside a room
we are a possibility larger
than a spoon of winter or
the patience of a scrambled egg--
draw the floor plans for the
sky with me-- i have a blue crayon and
a diner place mat-- 
we'll order a black and white
milkshake from the windowsill--
our waitress is a cardinal because
red is too slippery a color
to be grasped by death or winter 
or a ploom of whipped cream--
maraschino cherries
we're meant for sharing--
they were meant for 
sacrifice-- 
we'll ask for two--
bleed bright in a crown of cream--
oh my queen you turn the door keys
into rings--
promise me you remember what a closed
door is like--
what it's like to fill a room 
with someone else--
bless me Winter for i have sinned--
i re-imagined the sky without
a cloud of a sun to take us
away from the blue--
the sea became a cloud because
of me-- became a 
spoon to float on--
promise me you bent the keys 
for us and not just me--
promise me you drew the 
sun back into the sky
so we can make the blankets
into filo dough-- crack cardinal
eggs in the pan--
do you remember 
how to be born
out a window in the snow?--
become a cardinal 
and thrash scars in the white--
heal maroon as a sugar maple in 
melting September-- 
we shouldn't risk a door knob
again-- 
that's how
everything rushes out of a room--
and we just got here--
spend a little more silences on
me-- i want to be spoiled--
remember this silence in a jar--
-- the kind of quiet
i don't eat with another spoon--
the kind of silence of a cardinal--
waiting to run again from
Winter-- he's lonely without
someone to share milkshakes with
but it was never your obligation to be
a lover--
i have a pocket full of door knobs
whenever you're ready to
write another sky 
from a room where you make 
silence with someone else-- 
promise you remember what the door
were like when they were locked
and what the keys felt like 
as promise rings--
i promised September i would
let the scars on my forearms 
grow into trees after it snowed--
i promise you to give you door
knobs-- and milkshakes--
bless me winter for i have sinned
to listen to the confessions 
of a season from the porch--
i can be a confessional--
a cardinal-- a cherry--
crawl out the windows with me so
we can keep the key we've turned
into rings-- 
i like the sky we made--
i'll put back the sun
if you help me fish the clouds
from the blue that once was a sea.