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 Dec 2020 averylia
i feel a certain certainty
that i am going to burn myself
in the warmth of your fire.

i used to be so afraid of getting burned.
but the longer i'm in this fever dream,
the less i seem to care.

if i must be icarus
unable to resist reaching for the sun,
then so be it.
if i must be icarus
flying headfirst and blind,
trying to find your heart of hearts,
then so be it.

yes, he burned
and he fell.
but has anyone
ever known the sun
as only icarus did?

so let me burn
and let me fall,
fall hard into the cruel blue ocean waves.

let me know what your sunlight is like at point-blank range.
 Dec 2017 averylia
E. E. Cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

— The End —