'So Write A Poem About It.'

I'm lighting fires everywhere, kissing matchstick fingertips -

in graveyards, star-lit, moon-high,

chasing these old dreams.

The echoes of a scream are lighting up my sky, orchestrating

falling, crashing, and burning stars.

I'm missing you mathematically, this desire of mine following a divine rhythm.

I'm missing you, fantastically,

the ebb and flow of knowing one another that follows no stylized structure.

You brought out the mystic in me.

I press silk flowers, sick between my sweaty palms, rubbing myself raw with sacred salts -

these little witchy ritualistic ways of missing you -

and patiently, I wait for that beautiful chaos of once again knowing you.