Straight edges blacken and curl
Tiny palms, long, listing love lines
inviting me to inhale their scent,
bitter with just a touch of sweet
Paper fingers bend, burn, beckon,
words asking to be read once more
Sometimes, I think back
to my flint set of ribs,
your steel shoulders,
the tinder of our reserve
We were incendiary,
designed to cause fires
Do you not see the pains I’ve taken?
I’ve held flame after flame to you,
to the scraps and shrapnel we had left
Held them steady, in wild, resolute fists,
even as I torched every record of us
We were incendiary,
designed to ignite