The declaration

is so soft

no one notices and

when our breath catches

in our wine swollen throats

we wonder how

such debauchery

could have snuck in.

For my birthday

I asked for a 12

pack of toilet paper

and a sturdy pair of boots.

The first to fight

the ration shortage.

The second to fight

standing still.

For your birthday

the state of Virginia

banned oral sex so

I sent you a picture

of me

pleasuring

the turkey baster.

We still manage to see

fireworks even though

they are

not really

fireworks.

In some distant

country not at war

with us, the arches

of a cathedral crack and

I make an altar

out of pilfered bird

bones by the river

you will never see again.

Five tornadoes

touch down inside

the cradle

of a 10 mile radius.

We all raise

our arms

but we cannot

hear each other scream.

I receive

a gift

both happy and

sad. Neither

came from you.