Sideways.

What a generous survey! It encounters us, sideways,
Breath fogging the candied windows:

We may not be wise, the way you think of people.
But honey splits from us like we were hive-cox,

And our skin blooms like the brilliant bits of our
Yards

Whenever our dogs pass through;

We say to ourselves, "Okay, now I get it,
Look at what this sarcasm of light

Surrounds you
To change."