like newborn fire

Like newborn fire
that flares and rages
from which you step back
your moth eyes drawn,
My words burned bright
and etched themselves
unto the walls of your heart.


The strange knots in my chest unfurled,
bursting into ribbons of color
wrapping me round and round,
In your arms,
my words found new release
in pondering your mystery
and in promises that set your fires alight.


But the words you say grew stale,
died out;
and led to naught but traps
lined with shards of promises
that failed to fill the dent in your chest
where your heart used to be


My words would only light up your eyes
like comets do the sky -
Few, fleeting, and futile


‘tis not so because I no longer thread ribbons,
In my chest, no less brighter do the colors burn,
No less drawn am I to your mystery
nor mesmerized by your silence,
though I have learned to fear and respect it
like scorching fire, still
is my heart a moth-spark in your blaze


I know now the secret to your fire,
your passion, your longing.
I cannot fuel you like as I did before, no,
Not with loud flashes of flame
And bright fleeting sparks,
Or the raw fires that ravaged once pristine forests
and scarred our plains.


But with the steady glow of a candle
flickering, but ever true,
dancing in your waltzing gusts of wind;
With the determined resolve of coal and ember,
that burns long and warm - and slow,
Fire that gives itself


Wholly,
until nothing remains but ash and wasted wax,
So I burn for you now.


But summon me again, at your mere touch,
i will rise to consume you with words like before,
like newborn fire.


For Cheska
14th of February 2009