Obsequentis

spark, fly towards me, light up
the soil, my feet,
the ground below, the skies above
for I’m looking for a fire
a wild, destroying,
raging bundle of flames

a light on my hands,
tongues standing up straight,
a flower of smoke entering my lungs

yes, I’m looking for a dancer,
a flame percussing all, against my skin
burning creases on my chest,
painting stories with ash, freckles aligned:
the touch of the sun from afar

a muse of sensuality, warmth
sensual: for the senses to be fooled
into oblivion, instinctive caress on hands,
on arms and backs and thighs
amid touch and hearing and sight
gone all sense, we’ll go out in the streets
burning up,
and hot coal the pavement must be
if we’re to walk it, if we’re to find
each other again

I’m looking for a roaring fire
not silence (not anymore); quiet
comes when I’m alone– let me strum
these chords into a country song
fire up the notes, dance to the sound
of decaying beings: us, before, once more

a danseuse, the man, our sun,
the moon doesn’t allure me anymore
I’m free of her gravitational force

yes, comfort is the night’s embrace
but I want to be burnt up, burnt away
like a firecracker, flaming rocket
soon to be sent to outer space
and meet the moon, round Venus,
the seductress, the dominatrix, Libertina,
killer of Mercury for love of the Sun,
of the warmth–
she’ll betray me soon as well,
and lead me to his embrace,
his care, my death
and I’ll enjoy it, I’ll be caught up
in the flames, at last, I’ll fly away
as smoke,
passion consumed, ash on Earth

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