Excitement in the

Air all around us. Our breath,

Fogs of beginnings.

A scent of churro

Lingers like a shroud of mist

In my nostril’s depths.

Trumpets sound, war drums—

A song of celebration.

And our throats give out,

Reaching for a hand

Among all the bodies, slick

With drops of moonlight.

My lovers lips still

Candied at the thought of mine,

Teeth rotten and sweet.