The Chair Cares

What am I ....and Who!? that this eternal flame will not go out...and stay OUT!? the unadulterated everlasting blaze flows from these my poetic finger tips in spirons of orange and red and blue ...flames of you this river of our conflagration scars the OUR runs down my tresses charts pathways ...forms canyons incinerates and shapes torches and carves...the psychic ALL walls Canyons....of mercury and steely mir a heroine, a hero ...and hell why ?? Yesterday...was so innocent and so was I if not for resting a palm upon a chair ...a club stool in a little dark historic bar filled with small white lights and sweetest memories ...psychedelic indeed... a blood scent! I rested my hand only for a moment...but hearing your angry words of loss...as you turned on me the river broke free of the damn and the door mat in the hall where you first stood started laughing I should have known there were toxic remembrances lurking on surfaces there the sticky atoms of recall ...I should have stayed away! purest tears sprung instantly unbidden and deepest sadness dressed me in blue swept away by atomites and dripping with this immortal rainbow I am falling fall ing staining the page of the universe but for just another day