january

the sun in january
angles of decrease skyscrapers
across the darkening sky
with purple glass

lights of jets for stars
high clouds breaking
to pink yolks
the city in light snow
it's sizzling sound

and streets with their chop of slush
they beg
to be left alone

scenes full of the fast forgetting
of every place your gut would go
every hand whose tendon lines
you've traced
each face whose bones you know.