May 8, 2010

I met a firedancer
one summer’s eve.
I trader her goggles
in exchange for tea.
She left behind dreams
that tasted of fire,
lingering questions
about desert nights
that could have been,
of a summer spent
living in flames.

I sip my tea
through singed lips,
a burnt offering
to what could have been.

%d bloggers like this: