fire poppy
a bit more heartache in berkeley
Another almost
this time we both knew it was doomed from the start
me in California; you, two states apart
still my foolish heart fluttered.
It must be some kind of curse
to care this much
this fast
to have a heart that wants to pour
to never be able to be nonchalant
never scared to say i’m feeling you.
Would that someone still the silly little thing—-
vibrating, cowering, floating
in my chest
wrap thick fingers around its slender feathered wings
and squeeze.
not enough to crush
but enough to slow its incessant
attempts to soar.
Remember when you pressed down on it?
kept it grounded for me
pressed my back down into my duvet,
lips and eyes locked in a promise; in a goodbye
did you feel it leap up to meet you then?
Not all fires keep you warm
ash and feathers pollute the skies.
Oh! what madness that won’t let a flame die.
it’s a dry summer in California
and i almost let it burn



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