Variations On The Flame

* * * * *

and in this dream
words flow smoothly to paper
sweet and cruel, sorrowful and True
Ink, black -- under scrutiny, shifting
and still I write as the lines
blaze, first small,
more shine than Fire
Then smoke, and the page combusts
falling, igniting table and cloth
and phrases lay by rows
drying, coruscating, Burning
a house enflames, drawn to ash
I breath dust, and heat, words
the world becomes a bon-fire,
and I,
The Crucible of Transformation

* * * * *

My words Burn
They are Ruby and Shameless
Scorching the very hand that writes
My world Burns
Engulfed in flame and heartache
Scarlet letters that love betrays

* * * * *

The Writing is Red
Like Blood of Flame
Burning, Flowing --
It engulfs the Wrold
Like Rain or Sunshine
Cohesive, Growing

Alone

I feel more alone in crowded streets
(alone cannot be more or less)
I feel more connected when I'm alone

The Keys

Do I build impossible places
To dream and to behold?
Can these improbable people be
To love and understand?
Does this Thought define the Truth
of being one and none and Free?

Never Forget

I live like you are dead
At our every parting
And live like you are dying
When we are near
To never forget our love, my love