sleeping tigers: She Thinks of Him on Her Birthday It’s still winter,and still I don’t...
She Thinks of Him on Her Birthday
It’s still winter,
and still I don’t know you
anymore, and you don’t know
me. But this morning I stand
in the kitchen with the illusion,
peeling a clementine. Each piece
snaps like the nickname for a girl,
the tinny bite it was
to be one once….