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My Pilot Light
My Pilot Light
In a hidden crevice
between soul and skin,
there is a flicker,
a tangerine flame
blazing through black abyss;
illuminating infinite veins of strength
that light like gun powder;
a thousand volts of survival
searing through my core.
There is a whisper in that flame,
ripples beyond discernible sound,
that directs me to take solace
in the unwavering knowledge
that my dreams are already realized,
waiting on life’s top shelf;
I have only to climb up and see
that they were never out of reach,
only temporarily out of sight.
I know this more securely
than I can be sure of anything else:
love, marriage, children,
are rolls of a roulette dice
that tumble around in a risky blur
chancing to settle on snake eyes,
but desire, aspiration, ambition and execution
are coordinates on my internal map
and I will never lose direction.
Spin all the cobwebs of doubt
that you believe can trap my will,
but what I have you can’t touch
or break, or steal, or burn out;
such is the radiance
of my inextinguishable flame
burning on a wick of passion,
feeding on a fuel of might,
and guaranteed to burn the hand
that comes too close
to touching
my pilot light.
Copyright ©
Krystal Cochrane
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