“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Monday, January 13, 2020
Combustible
Blinded and spotted
with double vision
of two
dancing around
the ring, the pit, the issues,
the pyre and flames,
the names
we use
in Love...
The elements
were all presiding
outdoors.
The smoke moves us
around
the light flickers
and pops as it catches
on...
This orange glow,
we know
the truth is
coming together
these cold nights
bonfires seeking
vanity
are explosive,
knotted and ingrained.
We agree
wholeheartedly,
we are only we,
individually.
Painting by Paul Gaugin, 'Upa, Upa (the fire dance)' c. 1891 in Public Domain.
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