Playing with Fire
(1995. For Rita A.)
You make me itch
with a listless senselessness
I’ve not known for so long devouring my
waking hours like a phoenix
vision rising from the
smould’ring ashes
of my thoughts, torching my heart…
torturing my heart with
soft and gentle
gold-lash rimmed eyes, eyes which fan
the dull glowing embers of
my mind and blaze
through my slumber, leaving me
restless and unrested. You inflame my
senses with coyly directed
glances, stoking my
passion, scortching
the very fabric of my being.
They say I’m playing with
fire… You! A golden
glowing solar flare of hair
of wonder and desire.
About The Author
Tsc
A Gippsland lad that grew up in The Central Highlands, the Big Smoke, and on The Island, in The Lakes. Went abroad to China, Vietnam, Germany, with a few side visits along the way. Currently based in China.