Where there is smoke
and fire
and flame,
there is water,
air
and change.
Lust.
Desire.
Little things
like Love
and Faith,
they burn
as readily
and dry wood
on a cold day.
Recognize
your face
from
some
tragedy,
or dream
long
lost.
Half of me
wants
to
run.
The other part’s
already
on
fire.
So eager to burn.
I’ve
seen the smiles
in the flames
and the teeth behind them.
I’ve forgotten
their names,
never tried to find them.
Lost
in the fire
and the flame,
was every memory
I
ever
had.
Cripple me with
one
look
again.
I never thought
I’d walk,
run,
fly,
so never mind.
Just break
my
wings
and fall with me,
back into
the fire
and the flame.
The truth I tell you
is but
one
of many I have
made,
so much
water coming
down,
this rain
reminds me of
a spring
we never saw.
I can smell an old
wet
fire.
Ashes
black and
pools
of water,
grey as morning.
I don’t remember when
we lost the day,
the fire
and the flame.
This is just a thing,
a moment
in the rain.
Losing’s just a part
of being consumed
by the fire
and the flame.
HG – 2018
