the constant
u n y i e l d i n g
search for flint, for
tinder, for a breath
to keep the fire raging
at least glowing, the less--
w a r m. Not just any man
does, but several could, for
a
time
maybe.
we women
with temperamental
baggage, the thoughts
are alive, we fear ourselves
often knowing the flammable
ones-- but we burn anyway.