poem 267 of a poem a day for 2012

riding to find where you have hooded my mythological  

I am leaping into the flames

because escaping is only the velocity

of being afraid

of flying to falling

of capturing

my innermost fire’s gleam

my eyes are too easily sold as

lanterns as fences and no trespassing signs

while my nose knows better

they say stay here awhile

watch the bending algorithms

from the near iron in her exhales

and how metal forges bridled bits

in her hand cupped sand

this is silhouetted play and

a forest clocked full of day

that knew a scent path

with a soul in a basket

with an empath with a soul tasked to

leaving little clues behind for me

watching me try to remember

the way home while pretending

she doesn’t want me to be

the wolf or panther that finds her

alone and prepared for a slow savor

for taking the raking in of her wild dew

any detour from here is just another lure

away from the bend of the Moon

from the crescent wane

bellying up the pines and oaks

perfect champagne glass breasts

hold back the rain

enough to sip and lip

each flavor in the salt

as this meal 

is just another page

turned in the oldest

of our storied books

the ones written

before time knew

to parse infinity

into increments

and mementos

that we use

to tell the tales

of lust and desire

not being as important

as Love as a canvas

and those hearths

we seek to warm

ourselves in

EJR ©