Fireworks

2016-04-23-20-43-49-2

 

You used to

light fireworks

 

in my heart

 

the sparks

were seen for miles

 

incandescent joy

that floated

 

into space.

 

I used to feel

love was something

 

to be found

 

like gold:

a nuclear heroin

 

of heart

 

I was addicted

to the thought

 

of searching.

 

Yet here

the autumn leaves

 

become a softer muse,

 

the reds & golds of earth

once yearly metamorph

 

& all the drama

of the past

 

remains a fantasy

I made for me

 

to cling to.

 

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