~
find your torch
light me up
brittle and cracked
I like feeling this incomplete
I hope the nightmares don't start
without me
but if they do
let them stir
as the crow flies away
on dangerous days
with a host of stars
fiery god-smacked
in the vast well of night
where I could play king
for an hour
to a wounded land
and a pair of queens
kept in high dudgeon
lest they sing
their burning song
in rich hues
and deep tones
painted on the warm
analog tableau
on my skin
distant
distillation
happiest when sad
with time and space, some
of the intricacies
can be airbrushed out
but I don’t think
imperfect love
can take too many fires
like that, because then
a renaissance heart
would certainly go black
~