PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The come ons of years passed, yet no inspiration to ignite the fire. Strange keepers of redundant emptiness in dim-lit eyes to which have met mine far too many times. Exertion overwhelms the desire for warmth and I bury parched wood to great depths amongst my roots. No longer compelled to unearth required friction. One match in hand to which I coddle, safetly guarded from the world's intentions. Each layer content to sit like an aging whiskey aticipating the arrival of my skilled craftsman. These hands I've seen, these hands I know. Though unrequested, bestowed unto you the only key to craft. In your eyes, I recognize a familiar soul- one of which I've set apart time and time again. Dormant I remain, if need be, into next lifetime.

Yet hopefully near, should the day come his hands touch yearning skin, the world will shake with ignited passion. Time will stop. Cast aside our fears of disaster. I'd prefer to feel burn of shameless aftermath over the cold unknown. The world knows no love like this.