Flaming June
A love poem
Published in
Oct 31, 2024
--
Across the room, the hems of my dress catch a fire
I gladly let burn me in my seat.
I draw your image with my eyes and keep for me
a silhouette to look upon when the light is low
and the moon is high above the clouds.
The guillotine for me were those eyes,
falling upon me
— one glance, and I was sent to the river Styx,
the dwelling of lost souls.
My tears leap out of me and run after you,
leaving me to wither.
This drought is aging me.
I am consumed by time, consumed by you.
