Stoke me with poetry,
or kindle me with love,
prod me and clear a path for a wind,
and I’ll rise to engulf you.
There’s cedar and agar,
there’s amber and sandle,
Cackle and crackle
for most, too much to handle.
What did you think would happen,
if you touched my fire,
Of course I was going to burn you,
though a scorch, I want to brand in you desire.
Find me at the extremities of volatile,
and the edges of flint and molten,
fluid and ready,
Amidst all this inferno,
all you can be is frozen,
don’t complain of this heat,
if you want blood hot and crimson.
Inspired by something that happened this afternoon. Something that I wasn’t proud of, but showed me I am perhaps a little too volatile to be around at the moment.
Oh, and thank you to Nathalie who helped prod it out of me, a writer can never have enough muses.