Thawing Out

I stand in smoky clothes, on aching feet,
With prickling cotton skin wrapping my bones,
And feel snakes fighting in my jugular.
I pick the dirty plates up off the floor
And pause, quite still, and put them down again.
I walk out into the night, feeling the
Salty crush, cracking packed slush on the path
Of day-old snow that floated ghostly out
Of dark electric skies a night ago.
Cars are couched in crumbling slews of white
Refuse from damp clouds, as I cross the road
And dodge the shaking headlights coming on.
I stand between the lanes with open eyes
And lick wolf-lips that hide my yellow teeth.
I make the other side, with muddy shoes
And stop to watch the gritty, melting street.