His abrasive lips,
her soft longing.
Together part an eclipse,
gently under awnings.
And they'll stay like this,
fire-lit til the morning.
Sharing whatever it is,
lovers do til the dawn ends.

Love:
a material person,
taking material,
and passing it on.

It doesn't have to be healthy,
Only street corner poison;
Teeth marks,
Maybe something broken.
It's not about what it is,
But what it leaves.
The quiet skin beneath your sleeve,
The choir that sings in your sleep.

The things that start my fires,
keep burning down this house.
When the paper reaches air,
I rarely like the smell.

I will cut down this tree,
to make the stake where I write your name. 
I shall bury it in earth,
and mark the place your memory will stay.
The flowers may come with time,
but not with me.
Only runoff will unearth you,
as I will run away.

I'm not over her,
Though painful,
Without it,

?

The foundation of my childhood home,
Became the foundation,
Of an inferno.
She is the firewood,
She is the flames,
She is fulminating,
Just as a name.

It horrifies me she will never feel the heat,
Nor see the lights,
As this will never scald her skin,
Nor scorch her eyes.