Finding Fire For You
I love you
too much for myself.
It’s cracking my lips
and spilling over the rims of my eyes –
and yet I feel
all those crimson stains in my skull
-the deep, irrevocable red that always lurked
in places of me I refused to look at-
growing –
burning, burning, burning
in the mud.
I’ll cup my hands around
and bring it to you.
Dirtied and dilapidated as it is
with fear and vicious traditions,
it will always be your personal fistful of fire.
It’s searing me slowly into liquid,
melting into the dream I want to be for you.
I’m coming, reaching out with sparks flying.
I love you
too much for myself
and I haven’t caught up yet.
All I’m asking you to do is wait.
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