You burn
So softly, almost
As if your light
Flickered and fought
But dimmed,
And bled towards the night,
Amidst the broken undertones
Of burning plumes  
Puffing
Lost desires.

and I'm anchored
to the thought
of your touch
shoulder droughts
and the thought
of strawberries
that stay stray
if refrained
from seeing
who they want
to see
constrained
from
this
company