Impromptu Hannukah

We crouch in front of the makeshift menorah
you break two matches before one catches
light to the first candle you tell me is called the shammes
the shammes, that brings other lights to life.

I've never seen you pray
self-conscious words
in a tongue I've never heard from your tongue
that's sweet with mint tonight --with mint when I kiss you
small flames dance in the darkened room

You arm curves unselfconscious to cover your head
resting light on curly brown hair as though you'd always done this
three prayers, three moments you are the same man
but deeper, with the past in your eyes

The velvet scarf shutters me
places you only in my sight
a fresh link to a god we both find dubious
an old link to power and wisdom and family
and things I do not have but this
moment and the words you didn't forget
(at thirteen, the scholar of your house)

a time-tunnel of lights, you fire me like
the shammes in the center of our makeshift menorah
on a night you say isn't
in the scheme of Jewish holy-days
particularly important.