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A KIND OF KINDLING

I am taking pictures off the wall
Then taking them to the flame
I am burning each, every and all
Food for a fire fueled by blame

Snapshots that still have the sweet aroma of your perfume
Poses that posed the question can love get any better than this?
Figures and images we hung in the front room
And a hundred scenes of me giving you a kindling kiss

I never let things go but fought over so many paltry things
It’s easier burning photos than the memory of the night she took my name
A night of an angel in white and a man in a black tie and tails trading rings 
Further food for a fire fueled by shame

I’ll have to spackle those holes and heal them well
But I am incapable of healing "what’s done is done"
I’ve a legion of sins and there’s so much more to tell
But what’s gone is gone so I’m burning pictures one by one

I will always remember when I first heard an angel’s song
Lyrics of love as two hearts were bound together by desire
But not even that angel could accept all that I’ve done wrong
Disregarding the deepest description of both desire and this fire

There was one day when sky high “up” turned into a dowry of “down”
I didn’t make things simple or let her down easy at all
I simply said “I’m saddling my horse Scout and just leaving town
And Scout is restless so I’d better stop taking pictures off the wall"
    © 2011.….Phreepoetree

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