The fences are on fire Can’t you feel it? The bonfire in your nostrils Time standing by your side, Whispering “quickly, love” and, In the distance, lips part and quake They—you—(what difference will it make?) Tremble like a lake of sulfur, A lake of liquified lavender But darker—wine, yes, wine in its cellar Can’t you feel it? The ashes pasting themselves over the moon The midnight sun, the falling stars at noon Time grabs your hand this time, “No more waiting, my love” or maybe It was “No more hating, my love” You clench your free hand You bite your lip You drench you drench you drench Your body in acid in courage in rage Can’t you feel it?