Hot so hot
fire through
the night
mostly in my
head, feeding
gloves to monsters.
All the King’s horses
have turned
to stone:
my eyes become
‘’love crumbs’’
the bed sheets
& the sweat
have melted
with the words
you might have
said.
What have we
become?
Grasping at
angels
who flee from us.
Hot so hot
the mythic
& the dawn
hell fire
a poet’s voice
hoarse.
from searching.
Jungle of
my thoughts
boa constrictor
sent to squeeze
life from us.
Equations
only lead
to a dead end
siege.
I’m hungry
for the heat
of love, that’s
laughing
at my need
for solution.
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