where night is black opals
before the storm.

out of the flames,
pheonix bright,
our love,
reawoken,
tender and ageless,
*****-faced like
a jaguar of the night,
purple, blue and yellow
the bloodless fire,
and somewhere in
the hurt and the pain
the ghosts like an
old sinatra song
sing their melodies
in the sad summer hours.
i don't think i'll
ever feel so bruised
or so dark, our love
out of those blue-ghost
flames.