In December We Make Pies
written by: Darah Schillinger
In December we make pies
and you put the apple skins between your teeth
suck the fruit off of the flesh
and I pour cinnamon onto your tongue
we make cookies and hand cakes
nutmeg covers the counters and we drink cold eggnog
in mugs with paintings of mistletoe on them
you hold the mugs above our heads and kiss me
the ground spices leftover on your lips
now stuck to mine
and I smile because
I am home.
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