Fuel:

To preserve the sweet syllabic kisses
of your love before you leave me alone
to dissolve against all this gruesome war,
I will have to seize the same unholy ways
of being a righteous fool. The flames of
discontent are a tender wilderness when
the residue of blue breath escapes from
perilous capture. Oh how many nights,
voices, books, years will be obscured by
the shifting heels of an unforgiving violet?
And what matters most in the Winter rain,
except for the silence?  Is it the sunshine
or bleached sky of a mourning language?
Or the swells of the buttered damage?
What keeps me kissing your darling lips?
Oh, how I rejoice with the waltzing wound
that frames my entire daring existence.

©️Winter Dawn Burns