Up In Smoke

Will it all go up smoke,

my feelings for you.

Were they burned away

in your attempts to keep them hidden

from the duplicitous prying eyes?


As Eve wanted the shiny fruit

and yearned to know all,

I want your freedom,

and yearn to bring this wish to fruition.


But the eating of this metaphorical fruit,

would cause everything

to become transparent.

Like refracted light through glass,

that transparency would burn you.


I can’t allow that to happen.


I dearly wish for you to still be

nestled in that old strong warmth

and never have been burned.

But without that tsunami,

would we ever have gotten that close?


I feel like a carrion bird,

a vulture to be exact,

returning after a giant battle has been fought

and lost.

A carrion bird comes and picks at the flesh

still attached to the bleached bones.

By definition, this proves I am not

a carrion bird.

But I am a scavenger.


After the battle,

I have returned in an attempt

to mend the broken flesh

that was wrenched from the bone.

I want to help with repair,

but in a way I am too late.

Some things can never be repaired.


The last burn,

left a gaping wound in your heart.

A wound so dark that it swallowed everything in sight,

leaving you stuck in a miasma of pitch blackness.

In a repetition of that event,

I fear you would be swallowed whole

and left unable to return

from the Netherworld.

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