She shed her virginity like a snakeskin and
it was wonderful.
A bat shudders his wings,
kisses a saguaro blossom:
it is hard to know whose skin
is whose, warm parchment
of a wing against thick-dusted pollen.
Somebody has filled us to the brim.
Kitt Keller is a poet living in Tempe, AZ. She does not have a cat.