I Like The Way You Are
Both A Thunderstorm And
A Forest Fire At The Same Time
there is a storm of quiet
rain in your eyes
from a distance it is
streaks of heavy purple
on a mountain top
blue glaze that says, “hello
come along, my friend”
something warm in the
invitation, orange and brown
pulls you into frame
forests, acres, burned swiftly
in a single act of passion
flames lick everything
they can taste
to rebuild upon
black flats of
ash