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Today I desire to explore opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, if such a thing exists. The phrase “Moth to a flame” inspired Black Flame. Could there be a Black Flame that repels moths, and if so, using the situation as a metaphor for un-reciprocated love (that’s different from unrequited by the way), could there be a more somber end to one’s heart? I suppose this would be the “dark” end of the emotional spectrum…

Black Flame

Flutter, struggle – black-hole pull,

Wings slash starless skies – desperation.

Sullen, gray-faced heart thrum,

Hauls ever-long into Cimmerian shade.

 

Inexorable fury, ebony-fire-incineration

Awaits love-conquers-all struggles.

Prisoner to life’s well-worn rut,

Barred from love’s invigorating breeze.

 

A heart who knows awareness –

Black-flame-indifference devoured,

Denied affection, soul prey to the flame.

Shadows. Gloom. Obsidian night – extinguished.

 

On a more uplifting note, I ran across this photo (to the right of the poem), and felt drawn to it. The photographer captured something lovely, quaint, and heart-warming. While I key this, I have yet to write the poem, so this will be more off the cuff. I will attempt to polish it somewhat before I post. I love how her heels have risen off the ground…

Standing on Air

Springtime freshness – spirits soar,

Tender, wet kisses – just one minute more.

No fantasy clicking of ruby-red heels,

Clasp tight the way her lonely heart reels.

 

No, to the limo to whisk her home

Allow her lips to flirt and roam,

Hover, connect with slightest touch

Press against one she loves so much

 

Passion, tenderness, laid abundantly bare

The moment she tarried, standing on air…

 

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