Wednesday, 30 June 2010

A Fire

Don’t come into the house smelling of smoke
late at night when the pubs have closed
or after a barbeque flamed into heat.
No smoke! Don’t give me reason to ignite,
because smoky secrets catch you out
- caught on clothes, tucked into folds. On your thumb
I will see evidence; tan on your skin, a gently rising cloud,
a waving will of the wisp.

If you smell of smoke,
I know you want me gone,; you’ve found
some other red, transforming trick and it’s rude
to touch hot coals without alighting me.

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