January gave me garnets, growing

In the spaces between bathroom tiles,

Brilliant burgundy,

Sweet swelling against my ribs,

Covering me.

There we soak, newborn and clean,

Seraphic bliss sparkles

Beneath the showerhead, brown eyes of bounty

Promising lives ahead.

I plant a toothpaste kiss on her cheek,

She plucks a gem from porcelain

And gifts it me,

A memory:

Sopping, honeyed,

Rivulet tears,

When all division disappeared

In three words