If I Were Fire

If I Were Fire [Audio] http://vocaroo.com/i/s0R1FjOehwpy

If I Were Fire

I could move like a changeable leaf

wrapping and curving on the edges

while my central vein bent with the dry wind.

Shape-shifting, pliant,

dripping and stretching. Hot aspiring

to a cool blue God.

If I were fire you’d think me to a peanut between your eyes.

You’re only just now getting the trick of fixing me there

and are sure you’re changing too—you see me outside your brow.

You watch me flickering to your breath.

You inhale through full lips, soft tongue

and then pulse out a gentle nudge of air that yawns me

in a soft stretch off my wick, my spine.

A shirt on a pole drying in the backyard.

A flat Indiana farm.

If I were fire, I’d sheath around your flesh,

burn you like noon’s gaze, cape you under orange light.

I’d consume the hair all over you, the grasses

on the open plain, and then, when you were clean,

I’d love your spine as mine and all your limbs would wear me.


2 thoughts on “If I Were Fire

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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