words

a cold halo circles the night
and there are fires out there
burning in the dark
but none so as in my heart.

it wavers from winds of passion
and has before been snuffed out
by such gales that are common to all
and those only common to i
yet in those moments
i am a primitive man
huddled over the burnt brazier within
where embers fade as if they never were,
scratching together twigs of soul
to produce some spark with which
to ignite the flame again,
charges of blue like maniac dreams,
flares of microbial lightning
summoning forth intellective voltage
and metaphysical coughs of thunder.

so dark it nearly swallows the light,
consumes the thought of light, the idea,
the science of it ever having been,
still i send my better parts
out in to that burning cold
to tend the fires of my heart.

-S.C. Martinez