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.

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