I fancied burning;
nursed charred fingertips
from placing them between.
lips. I enjoyed love warm.
Love was easier
to kindle with friction
under sheets pre-lit,
shaped by body-heat.
Somewhere, an oasis
is brushing her hair,
is rippling with light,
lush with a fleeting smile.
I found her in autumn
laughing like a creek.
Her hair the color
of poplar leaves afloat.
She, restless, cascading
away and sometimes
over me, cannot
be contained readily.
My other lovers:
they were forest fires,
were all holocausts
filled with sharp facets.
An oasis is still sharp
to the taste. Her kiss
smooth: I can feel it
douse memories of cinders:
her eyes turn soft with mist
within my scorched daydreams.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
I fancied burning;
nursed charred fingertips
from placing them between.
lips. I enjoyed love warm.
Love was easier
to kindle with friction
under sheets pre-lit,
shaped by body-heat.
Somewhere, an oasis
is brushing her hair,
is rippling with light,
lush with a fleeting smile.
I found her in autumn
laughing like a creek.
Her hair the color
of poplar leaves afloat.
She, restless, cascading
away and sometimes
over me, cannot
be contained readily.
My other lovers:
they were forest fires,
were all holocausts
filled with sharp facets.
An oasis is still sharp
to the taste. Her kiss
smooth: I can feel it
douse memories of cinders:
her eyes turn soft with mist
within my scorched daydreams.
Wrote this for a friend/lover.
