And everything
comes to a point
where the smoke dissipates
into the ***** air
and we are left
with nothing
but the wild desire
to start another fire.

uttering that tenor growl
that only we salamanders know,
I will stir from my salamander bed,
slide from its clinging preservative oil
into the eerie orange of tonight’s hellish glow.

Then we will meet at the shore
of the black stagnant puddle our home,
like a monstrous bootprint
stamped in the mud of our forest.

We’ll slink towards the woods,
slowly gyrating our limbs over leaves twigs sticks
roots and stones five times our size;
a struggle to heave ourselves before
the looming, glowing trees.

At last the heat of the ash trees,
the entire forest swirls in flames,
crackling at our feet,
engorged by the unbothered blaze.
We’ll wait a pensive moment, then take
our first few steps into the burn.

I sang a song at dusking time
Beneath the evening star,
And Terence left his latest rhyme
To answer from afar.

Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
And sighed, “She sings for me,”
But Colin slept a careless sleep
Beneath an apple tree.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

you are a pearl
silken white wraped around
a sand of hurt
shining even in the dark
aged and rendered smooth
by ruthless time
rising from deep waters
bathe and cleansed
by the sun.
i hold you in my palm
and i am in awe
my whole being trembles
at how precious you are
how timeless
how loved.

my pearl,
my heart longs
for your luster and feel
shine always
and forever hold
my adoring eyes.

On this crisp white sheet
The mind will be moonlighting
Editing the day


© Marcus Lane 2010

What if...
        An elephant got
        caught in the rain.
        And started to melt
        Like a candy cane.
        Until nothing was left
        But an elephant-sized stain.