Thread: Slow Burn

Slow Burn

I.
As dawn creeps over the snow covered rooftops,
and his chest rises and falls with the breath
that warms my lips,
I watch the swirl of galaxies,
the glimmering of stardust and the crash of asteroids
captured in his shining pupils
and carefully painted irises.
The universe fits into his eye, yet
I could swim endlessly, floating
and treading through space.

II.
A slow burn.
The flames licked my flesh as soon as I
caught your scent on the breeze.
I never thought I could combust, I never knew I was so volatile,
but just the vapors of that fuel you're made of set my spark alight.
The world is on fire, and I am overcome by heat
and smoke.

III.
Sitting on an old bridge,
legs swinging over, fireflies gliding by and casting that asylum-grade
yellow green glow all over. Listening to crickets and bullfrogs,
and a few odd growls and cries echoing in the night
that make me scoot a little closer to him for protection.
I especially love the rumble of the settling sky, threatening us with warm summer rain and cracks of
wild white electricity when it opens wide.
Crossing my fingers behind my back
that he pulls me near when the shower starts, and that maybe
my thirst can be satisfied.

IV.
Maybe I could, if I knew your arms were outstretched,
and that you were a hell of a good catcher.
I can see it, running full speed toward that rocky edge,
getting closer and more terrified with every step, but stopping's not an option.
At last jumping, free falling, eyes shut tight to squeeze back tears.
Hoping, wishing, begging, praying, asking every god known and yet to be discovered
that my leap be not in vain, that the grace I fell from won't mean a thing
compared to what I find when I land.

V.
Startled out of heaven by that damn buzzing.
I shake the sleep out of my head, along with your face.
The taste of your skin, the sound of your whisper
("Closer, my love"),
and the feel of your fingers clasped between mine
run down like grains through the hourglass--
before midafternoon, only the tiniest speck remains.
It's enough though; I'll hold through the day to get to the night
when you always return.