Fire

a poem by Glory Sasikala Franklin

Leave it.
The game of love burns!
In the encroaching space
Of that hut-
A storm within and without.
The wick turned low,
Casting ominous shadows.

Deceptive
The tongues of flame,
Disguised as they are
As your lily-white purity,
Your pristine virginity,
Your baffling innocence.
Your eyes so dark
And all too large for your face.

I keep against the wall,
Against the dancing shadows-
Just out of reach
Of those flicking arrows.
But your freed soul
Is a forest fire
Burning all-
Only aware of your own desire
Child-like, reaching out-
Enveloping, engulfing.

I cannot escape.

Hovering now on the brink
Of Life and Death,
A bright light beckons.
Light without heat.
Benign well-known shadows
Welcome. I smile
A gentle smile and give up.
And give in
To the all-consuming lethargy.
The flame flickers
One last time
And dies…
Forever.
My soul, a thread of white smoke.
The Sunrise now
The Hand
That lights my pyre.