the elements – a first draft
my fire will consume your earth-
bound frame, charting a chalk outline
of my body on the ground as if it could
be tethered, as if i might be tamed and
this animal keeps surging up to the surface
underneath my skin. its leonine roar frightens me, such ferocity that does not want to be
dampened but wants to rage on. the
air is thick with your smell, one part
floral, fifty parts freshly turned
peet moss. you come to me
at night, behind my closed eyes i see you,
as i want to, unknown but wanting to
be known. sleep evades me. i want
you to burrow down inside of me,
quiet-like, polite, making your-
self useful through silence,
me erasing your mouth,
pretending you are not here, a constant
dripping of water outside my door,
reminder of the forthcoming downpour.