Between them

And who hoves toward you in this wind?
twinned, they bob
dark, booted
who they are could be a pair of sighthounds
shoulders crossbowed
the cold makes the men handless
makes two pairs of pockets
hungry for bunches of knuckles.

And who could you be?
rail thin fattened by cloak and hood
tromping too-man-like
conversation between cinched waist
hip and knee blabs
girl, girl, girl

And who is she?
A little jutting chin
halfmoon lip
girl, girl, girl
The pair straighten
the question mark
scratched into yesterday’s shave
winking cigarettes
blooming eyes chocolate warm
wolf famished

And who are you?
all ready to bolt
hare’s blood up and telling tales
in the voice of her mother

and on this stretch of path – bolt where?

So who you are passes who they are
you go, angled, cat sure
prickling with their heat
the feathers of their appraisal
through a coverlet of bergamot and grappa

who you are passes like tobacco smoke
between who they are
who you are doesn’t flinch as they curve their necks
all the better to see who you are

you mirror their teeth
and all that wilderness just veiled
pretend not to imagine
your arms torn out
easily as a finch’s wings
between them.