It’s been a difficult week.
Tinder (written 3/8/17)
We could have been a forest fire,
started by a chanced match
dropped onto ready tinder I carried
in my bones. Dry and eager,
I exploded into a deluge of flame,
your fingertips the flint to my steel.
It bloomed like a forest fire,
the press of your mouth a driving gale,
calling my embers to remember
their phoenix shape. I wanted you
set ablaze too, wanted my touch
to send you smoldering.
The hunger was a forest fire.
We raced to devour each other.
We inhaled dead things and breathed
out sparks. Two writhing flames
combining to reshape my world.
I was transmuted in this fire
but you did not want all the air
in the open sky. You longed for different
light: the gentle glow of fireplace;
the soft companionship of a two-wick candle.
And even forest fires must die,
killed by unexpected rainstorms.
I’m shrinking, reshaping ash
into fresh flesh and bone.
I’ll wash the scorch marks from my skin
and begin to gather new tinder.