I've taken turns

from the days my flame burned smoke

in the wrong direction.

          I can't stress the perfection of this wood.

And the light it gleams

at campfire

keeps me awake til 3

before retreating into hazel tents.

          It must be easy to rest, they say,

          knowing the blaze will never subside.

I open my eyes at night

to see her standing over me

pouring water onto my face

          and waking me up

          to go outside and see the stars...

And I awaken every day

to find

her blade lodged deep within me,

drawing warm blood into her cup.

          I'd have it

          no other way...

View grahf's Full Portfolio