If there is no friction
the meteor is invisible. We were
troubled on this Earth
and troubled
the Earth in turn. That’s how
we knew we were here.
That’s how we glowed. We burned up
a little, even in our calmest moments,
even as we read, our eyes lit
the pages. Our thoughts
were strike-anywhere matches,
tipped blue, struck often,
and anywhere. Such cold
nights. Such dark woods. What
would I (what wouldn’t I?) burn
to see you, to be seen by you,
just a spell longer? After all
the time we took
to get here, and what
sweet little remains.
Strike Anywhere by Raoul Fernandes | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
