User Review( votes)
Christmas Eve, 1945
written by: Dan Wilcox
How I love your round belly, heavy
like a fruit cake beneath the tree.
You sit tucked in your flannel robe
deep in yourself in thought and dream.
The red and green and yellow lights
are reflected in your hair, your eyes.
You wait for me, feeling me
tumble, the weight growing larger
stretching you, changing you forever
floating there, nestled, like
the red and green and yellow candies
cooked in the moist sweetness of cake.