matt in his black sweater

they said "only rapists
wear black
turtleneck sweaters"

(then it was afternoon, and I gambled
a bit with red rocks, tossed
them to the potent
stream, walked and walked until
I was home:

thought deeply, deeply
as the red stream. he was nothing

of the sort.)

-and so the diktat was passed; stood.
but I folded the newspaper
and cleaned out the

pockets of
my grey coat, walked out into the
red sky,

and thought he
looked especially lovely
when he leaned

by the door, when his face was
close to the artic
steel, and the sun

was white and it was
not red.