Strike

The match being struck always intrigues me
With that moment of rasping
Oh the ignition!
It passes along my spine
Raising gooses
Smelling somehow exciting and hot
Somehow slightly peppery
That passes into the newborn flame
That flickers glowing its waverly beauty
That dances so well as you play with it
With your softest breath
Until it all turns black and brittle.

I love to strike those matches.
I adore those single flames that fleet.






Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 540 times
Written on 2009-03-15 at 23:25

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gemma
i love how you've turned something so simple into a work of art :) excellent xx
2009-03-16