I cover my caves with stones
trying to tame the darkness
resurrect the demons and emerge a saint
in your eyes,
but their hourglass shine confessed
but their hourglass shine confessed
that all wicks are eventually snuffed out
every fire to be taken
with the wind...
every fire to be taken
with the wind...
I dream that we fill a pit
with broken branches and dead leaves
with broken branches and dead leaves
spend the night naked
by the flames,
by the flames,
and in the morning
we fan the cinders from both sides
smile as smoke curls into heat
warms our hands another time
warms our hands another time
1 comment:
Your dreams have spilled over and filled the pits where my dreams spent their days watching clouds pass overhead.
Your dreams have brought ashes and mornings and stones and darkness and saints and your dreams also bring a before and an after reminding me to live. Dreaming.
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