Clandestine Affairs
There’s ice in your eyes,
where there’s fire in mine,
But darling, ice can burn-
The sad thing about our story,
is that we end in mortal doom,
For every moment we’re together,
Turns our hearts into a tomb.
You melt for me, and I burn for you,
both of us withering away.
But at dawn we stand, forgotten pain,
to live another day.
I love you with my soul,
rather than my heart of fragile strings.
even though I run from our clandestine affairs,
I find peace in what they bring.
I stood in a gossamer gown,
your eyes tracing the fires of my eyes,
and as you knelt upon your knee,
I whispered, “Do you think that is wise?”
You said, “Darling you can destroy me,
for I was only ever yours to break,
My hands were meant for yours,
as we cross the frozen lake.”
Even in the utter chaos,
The only peace high up in foreign spires,
Can only be found with you, so-
I’m stepping into our raging fires.
#fantasy #poetry #poems #challenge #love #prose #fire #ice
Matches
love is like an unlit match
your parents tell you not to play with it
because they know how much it burns
love is like an unlit match,
it's waiting for a spark or the side of a box
to strike it into life
love is like an unlit match,
it's a forbidden game
that kids aren't supposed to know how to play
and yet we do it anyway
and we act shocked
when we get burned.
Do you have a light?
A match unlit
burning with potential
biding time
waiting...
Always present
out of sight
carried forth
inner pockets
cradling
seeds
shielded from expansion
stuck
waiting...
Always present
out of sight
carried forth
inner pockets
cradling
seeds
shielded from expansion
stuck
waiting...
seeds
shielded from expansion
stuck
waiting...
seeds
waiting...
waiting...
passed from hand to tempting hand
brief words on a dark night
hot flashes unplanned
Burned
abandoned after use
tossed out-of-sight
Do you have a light?
unmatched
the space that is my heart
seems to be dark,
for the match that was us
was never given the chance
to be lit, i think
we were over before we
ever even started.
you were given a chance
to light my match and
together, we would be a flame
that would burn as long as
our love was alive.
its clear to me now, that
the chance of our flame being
given the chance of life
was merely a moment of weakness
on my part
for you.
- sincerely a love that was never meant to be but will always be a memory
Loving a book of matches?
Loves like an unlit match you say?
Ok I’ll bite. Let’s play!
On its own it remains stable even neglected.
Correction on the condition that you’ve tamed your propensity for following around the opposite sex with an erection. Starting friction fires. Does it remain capable despite being to often neglected
Clearly I only speak of my particular male point of view. The female’s and every other male’s being beyond my realm of expertise. A view askew!
"Act One! Cut to two!"
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Chapter 2
Riding Eight AT-AT’s
“Achu!"
"Fuck you. Bless you. An unlit match ain’t burned no fat yet. Your blowing smoke to stoke the fires. So when if ever you do catch me smoking and turn me in. It won’t be the first time disciplinarians come across my name"
"Yea right. If I was born yesterday maybe. Oh wouldn’t you just love that? I get labeled a Karen while getting you over the first hump towards martyrdom in the process. As if?"
"Hey I just implied you’d throw me under the bus. For getting high. Not murder me Captain Overkill. You got some serious thighs. Why you gotta hate? I was hoping we’d go out on a date and relate thru a shared taste for flammable literature sometime Bookworm."
"Dude! I’m fine with burning some tree. Idiot! Just keep your filthy cigarettes away from me. Yes I’d love to get high. Fire it up shit 4 brains."
"Ah dude like because sulfur-ing thru me getting an idea. I.e. Flaming out stinks like eggs? Which were not born yesterday! Burn! But no don’t ever get a perm your hair is beautiful."
Love is like..........
"Unlit matches! WTF" (where’s the fire???)
@@@@@@@@
Writing Eight @@’s over Hoffa’s icy grave.
The Valentine’s Day massacre of teamsters by two planking Esuesue (e-sue-zoo) troopers spray painting 8 @’s on ice-e walls. In and around the city of Harnniple on the Hoff’s barren Barnacle bay. Just devastating the local freezer burners. Writing graffiti propaganda high up the walls with the help of the Empire’s heavy articulators. Put the troopers at the tip of the lightsaber “burning spear" Well out of the reach of their competition. Wining the day for the establishment. Coming soon! On the KOOL network “Revenge of the Jedidiah” the same thing only set in Jamaica man.
Playing with Matches
Love is like an unlit match.
And who doesn't love playing with fire?
Raw unrealized potential just waiting to explode,
Flashing upon my memory like a celluloid film. Never to expire.
Though the flame's existence maybe but mere seconds,
What a grand display before my very eyes.
Somethings are not meant to last forever,
But each of those precious nanoseconds holds the true prize.