I Sit and Shake My Legs

by Paige Alis Dammers

I sit and shake my legs
filled with caffeine buzzing
in veins both red and blue,
pumping life inside my skin,
suit beating with warmth,
and I am, and the world is, cold.

Wind breaks, cold
glass piercing shards into my legs,
sweet warmth
bubbling to the surface of my unshaven stubble, buzzing
everywhere excited and the blood beneath my skin
jumps; and the sky is blue—

Blue!
the clouds must be cold.
Their misty skin
trickles down as rain from foggy legs,
sprinkles of frost buzzing
and silenced by our Earthly warmth.

That familiar warmth,
with roots of brown and worms of blue
and tiny bugs whose bodies are always buzzing;
rocks dripping cold,
wet energy from the caves, dangling legs
forming the deepest, richest, subterranean skin

eventually encapsulating everything, a supple and silky skin
that glows in the calming warmth
of our eyes, our hands, our faces, our legs,
our gold and copper sun, our sky where she sits, perched in a blue
palace, soaring beyond that cold
from below, and above, and buzzing.

and buzzing, and buzzing,
in the sea, the rock, the dirt, my skin,
in static; cold.

Yet the soul retains its warmth,
after the sun dips back into black and blue,
setting down off her flaming legs—

Those legs that shake and are still buzzing.
So when chilling blue wraps around my pink skin
I shall find the warmth in that cold.