Eyes that woke spoke nothing of the day that lay before me
and the night had passed quite evenly or even uneventfully

it was playing with the lucifers that lit me to the hour when I saw the orange blossom of this match with all its power.

Of course the fire consumed me,
the fire that eyes could never see
something smoking deep inside me
which the lucifer set free.

Good Friday and some say why good?
it starts as any Friday would
with coffee and a cigarette and yet
I feel there's somewhat more than this ,
somewhat more?,

what did I miss?