Feb 3, 2010

 

i miss your fire
 and i miss your fire
 and i miss you, your eyes--
  the underbelly of pine
  indirect upon mountain blue--
windless and supple your gaze--
  
here are my hands, keys after keyholes--
here are my eyes, thermals of snakes
 and birds of prey--
here is my glut of gulf, my stars--
  my time, my space--
 
what better headstone
 if not entirety itself--
 that large contrail that plumes
 in pressure and plummets--
  what better epitaph 
  than a sincere lack of fate--
 
i miss your fire--
 the coalesced embers of you--
  my heart is tinder--
  my mind is kindling--
  my soul erased.

 

 

 

 

 

 
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