legs

my wife admires my legs

from not a distance

but from the next cushion

over on our couch.

this couch is a deep blue

and horseshoe shaped—

we're sitting on goodluck.

these legs are not subtle,

covered with a cloak

of black hair that's crowded

like an ny subway.

these are the legs

that taxi my pale bones

from home to job to home.

this my hour of sobriety.