First Light
liquid has swift wings
when the fuel is sweet
and glasses half-full
consistent
light dims as a sigh
for the shadow's walk,
reflecting inward glow
elation of the stranger's eye
flint strike spark
dry timber, helpless
ignition
fast flame, burn
smokeless ember drenched
favored hands flicker
glide and clench,
sticky sweet and ashen
blisters form unnoticed
in confused heat, diminished
sunblast shatter
curtain call,
morning mist remembrance
soldered faces of the dancers
burnt with dreamstate's grin.
Copyright © Emily Harris | Year Posted 2011
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