A poem for desire

Two poems, one theme

Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can’t strike them all by ourselves.

Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

Burning well into the night

There’s six doors that are red
on my street, I count them day
by day, there’s five doors left
now my fire has come to stay

He burned away the door, key
and locks, blackening the walls
until all’s petals of ash and brick,
he razes a line upstairs, hearing my calls

Embracing flames doesn’t scare me
all fire can do is smoke, devour, burn,
I am a woman of unlikely creation
not one to wait on fate and yearn

It raced across my breast, down
eating me to my core.
It raced further still
until I could bear no more

I cried out and flame
scorched inside my mouth
There was little else left to do
except to put it out.

We’d rise groggy in the morning
laughing at a high sun blazing
there was little else left to do
except to eat our bodies, grazing

Preferably, in his arms

He holds me in his
arms, of course, lovers aren’t held
generally, with feet.

The promised upbeat poems! After all, what’s more life affirming than getting it on?

Whenever I write anything particularly raunchy, I need to bring it down with a comedy sorbet. Just in case you’re similar when reading, I’ve included the comic haiku too.

I’ll be reaching the end of my queued poems soon, so have a think of any ideas you’d like to see covered here.

More poetry? More writing advice? Short stories or serialised longer ones?

Let me know in the comments and, in the meantime, keep on being creative!

This week’s featured image is by Francheska Aurora.

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