Bonfire nights

 

“…Gold as anything needed to be

to and to find its form

Somehow, somewhere but where?

The keys cross: to open to close

The bonfire sparkles as she dances:

As she spits, stares and lures

The light reflects upon the flesh

of the whole complexion of the night.

Here is where the men and the women

Find light in this lightless sanctuary

Their voices that become; poetic –

Poetry opposing the eyes attachment

….deep and dark the salted ambiance

Olive skinned red and green

The liquidity of the grape

Telling tales: telling – telling

The soul is here: alone

Against the night: the two become one”’

“I was there, was it a dream?

…or life or a dream of life

Romanticism and classicism are lost

They were not needed

as we did not need anything,

We are dancing with the flames

Long long into the night….”

 

The dawn drew up and away

from the nights fire dream state.

As we awoke in amnesia.

Smelling only cinders and ash.