Quiver

he picks us up
noonish
we climb in the van
(she and me, me and my
woman on weekends, my
tender cinnamon sprinkle)
waiting for
a triple cream fix
wheeling fast toward Silverthorn
and the comet
"did you see it?"
"yeah, I saw the comet." she winks.
(see, we're the
life of the party.
They call for us
when it's quiet. "that one,
she's likely to end up
on the floor,
but before she does,
wow, those two,
the silver suit,
the feathers)
waiting for...
doing snack all day
anxious
impatient
for when we
can safely
melt as it
melts
into us.