All Hallows’ Eve Eve, and I
dress in lambskin,
slip a dirty book
into my bag,
make a pilgrimage
to the reading,
where you’re waiting
to wink at me
and see the rose petal
I keep pressing
to my lips,
to my knee.

You trot
to catch me,
walk me
past lamplit buildings,
talking of igloos,
close enough
that my body forgets
where it stops,
until the sidewalk ends,
and I turn
while you keep going.