you’re biting your nails again o sweet
white of time I feel in the December rush

of cold the whoosh of closed & open
doors the portals if I knew where to look

I wanted stripes & bite of thrush
behind me now the lust the what I liked

to look outside the window purple
slice of sky & zest of orange in the burst

of energy rushing up when you walk
& knock on the astrologer’s door

(originally published in The Metaworker, Summer 2020)