"Definition", "Realization", and "Cold Feet"

Writing you
defines me

on the sofa
in the parenthesis
of cats:

I describe them
(and me)
to you

I killed a starfish
I know why

          when Uncle asked
I shrugged they'll be pretty
when they dry

             purple orange knobbly
starfish
on the wrinkled flat
look like you know what

but pried
         from their beds
and stabbed---

              splayed
on the windowsill

they rot

My feet are bare
as I stand
outside your door.

Your feet are bare
as you step
across the threshold.

You observe 
my feet are cold,
and you say
warm your toes
on my toes.

You open
your arms to me,
and I lean
against your chest.

I consider
kissing you,
but I hesitate
to end
our mutual 
slow warming.

Then I wake up.