Son

Uncategorized

We nestle

and match – one the other’s striking board

the sulphur flare of

our pitch

 

and burn.

 

I coax you to heat,

feed you pine needles and

you are fierce in your concentration

you consume these questions, these answers

these encoded woody stems

that once held blossoms.

 

As you turn and the light is

creeping from you so your face

is lit like a beacon and as blinding

there, you are me with that glittering eye

I have known you like myself

you have thrown flame

all along my secrets.

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