Two flamesI want a love like wild fires.
Consuming all it touches, catching breaths and gripping throats, pressing fingertips to lips and never quenching its thirst.
Tounges in cheeks, choked.
Speckled black skin, cracked and just two flames licking clean the wounds from these dry bones.
To be marked with ashes, on a Wednesday,
leaving nothing but heat that sears through years,
bursting open budding flowers,
that lingered idle; ached to bloom.
Engulfed and engorged, no stone left cold from its antics, these flames are antique.
Old as souls.
I want ashes to rain a soft drizzle, dissolve the days into nights, the streams of light dancing against a smoke window.
Wake up and never stop; just watch
my heart be reborn over and over.
Poetry by stef lai
Read 125 times
Written on 2020-05-08 at 21:42
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