On the bed your flesh,
incandescent, begins to glow
although it is yet to be that hour.
.
In half light I search the room.
I give up after failing to remember
what it is I want.
.
I return beside you, now as a coal,
cold, and ready for your heat.
After you burn me out
I can be used in drawing the scene,
in black and white,
dark memories and their white absence.
Deja un comentario