Memory flashed like strobe
lights and illuminated paths of
tangled legs; only the moon
watched us weave intricate
patterns of impassioned sighs
and scattered black lace.

Shadows settle with the
musing silence of the
immediate past: two bodies
in love with childhood naivety,
the dash of what could be.
What could be?

Predawn whispers shatter
the fragile ivory walls of
my chest, unveiling a chasm
that is yearning to feel again.

A nice curve upon these lips
upside down then often flips

sinking deep with no one near
words buzz my head about fear

cryptic thoughts with simple minds
describes humans of three kinds

hum of nature's life outside
pink mush in my skull, just dyed

no pain skating though my form
feeling wooden, where's the swarm

thinking found answers, I'm lost
rare's high-priced but at what cost

Maybe that's what I was—a wildfire.
You, so sweetly, abandoned the clouds and burst all over me,
but I, as what I should, encircled you with my flames.

You told me to stop burning things dearest to you,
but I bleed, oh, so gently! oh, so passionately!
and left them all to ashes.

Maybe that's what you were—a rainfall.
Always in-between of what I desire
and your battle cry for my last blow.

We didn't say we were a hurricane.
This is my trail, that is yours.
We go together, but we leave our separate ways.

I flickered, I rose, I got out of control.
What else were you there for
if not to watch me swallow the place so fervently
before you can downpour your proudest good bye?