In the light cast by the fire, your face glows with
primal longing—a hunger that frightens me
with its directness and the fragility
that lies barely hidden behind the bright play
of firelight across your dark pupils, the blue
iris pulsating with each flickering tongue.
An entire night expands and contracts beyond
the small ring of light. Time passes. Our planet
tilts and spins further into the great darkness
marked by the points of light we can see, if we
squint our eyes against the flames, throbbing among
the branches of trees overhead, miniscule
seeds of warm fruit that swell only in the dark.
I would reach beyond the far branches, my arm
brushing leaves that held yet a whisper of day's
warmth, infinitely long, fingers delicate
as they grasp the small glitter to pluck and draw
one down to rub across your lips, and then to
kiss them until heat courses slowly lower.

Volume 1, Issue 1, 2006