Sit with me


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 .


One response »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s