Fire Flickers

Clandestine beauty—and evanescent joy; but love is rich;
And solace such grace. She implores a goddess, and lives
The love. I falter and stumble and fall and crawl: I’m
Different that way; and similar this way. Her sanctum is

Her home: she feels my facial expressions; and I dance her
Emotions. The heart is warming. It’s glad to feel; and feel
It must. Why the masquerade? I remind her of December:
Even a gentle love. We glance a sacred vase; and symbols

Part the air. I smile and laugh; and she understands. What
Is this mystery? It colors sadness; and joy features freedom.
Her legs are cryptic; and she would never; and never
Grows; and I agitate; and I move gray; and I’m messed up;
And some women hate that. They see a jewel: even an
Architect; and I die invisible; and I paint aloof.