Sit with me

Standard

It’s cold at night
come sit with me
by the fire
we made ourselves from scratch
one (may) day.
One sight grabs hold of an ember
a burst of flame
of sunset color.
In the scorching heat 
drinking wine or something stronger
(maybe words)…
Dizzy heads and dim stars
used to light the matches on.
watching the smoke snakes dancing
with fingers entwined.
Forearm to forearm.
Skin turned into liquid gold.
Under the full smile of the moon.
Killing the grass.
The air is moist with words
we feed on.
Unspoken .

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