2 LYNETTE CINTRON


He pretending she was all
She pretending all

Of course
She had seen snow before
On the back of a white bear
On the eyelash of a monkey
Venturing into the cold
On the pretty pink cap
Of her mother
And on her own red boots
She was four
And it was the Bronx zoo


But she had never
Seen snow like this
Now that she had nipples
That hardened and scrunched
Against the wool of her sweater
That snow had not melted
On the ground at her feet
Nor into wetness
Between her thighs
As it now did

This was not
Her mother's
Pink suede gloved hand
She held
Nor was it
Her father's
Old gray wool
She grasped
It was slick black leather
Tight around her
Walking Central Park West
Reaching East
Being warmed
Near Lincoln Center
Not with hot cocoa
But a single malt no ice
And a not-yet-lover