sky sapped of light by 5pm. no need for overhead fans. we pull fat cotton quilts from closet shelves, shake out the moths. on the fire escape, we sip hot spiked cider while the cat with the tuxedo face noses through the trash. thick slices of ginger bread sweetens our breath. in bed, we rub noses, toes. through the parted curtains, i can see the first snow soft on the mountaintops. a big, fat moon even if the stars are blown out by the streetlights.