Skating

One winter, after the pond froze
we skated across and around
its complete perimeter.

You were cold, sober
even if you'd been drunk
the frigid air, an invisible breath,
would have awakened you.

Your graceful sobriety
cut like the blades
of our sharpened skates
across perfectly smooth surface.

Each winter I wait
and hope for that cutting,
your beauty in dryness to emerge.

The pain of who
you could be,
cut into me
always, after that.