Arsenist
If I could light a world on fire,
then mine forever I would.
Throw a match into the dark,
let the shadows start.
The day's a pretty river
flowing so fast the reflection
of a moment as I see it,
seems to slip,
long before I can touch it.
It runs too fast,
(with a serious expression)
but never seeing.
The night shows me life,
as clear as my reflection
in glass. It lets me flow
with my imperfections like a fountain.
(never requiring displacement)
Where the hidden seems exotic,
belonging.
And the scent of sex sings
in my head, whispers
in my ear, my hair,
the light sheen on my skin.
Naturally present.
Like the way my shirt slides off
the shoulder, just so much.
Effortless like wind,
speaking volumes.
I'm an artist, and I've found
my perfect instrument,
(my canvas if you will)
and keep the match ready
when the night comes to meet me.
Then....
I have so much more to say,
without being asked.
Without being told.
And I'm ready to move,
ready to dance with the devil,
ready to play with the fire.
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