Foryou

Icarus. Flying too close to the sun. You and I Beneath the snow of ash you grab my hand, We kiss. Lips taste of mist. In the embrace Our hair blankets gray, reeking of gasoline. A naïve flame, a spark It cannot touch us We choose when, to calm the waters When to ignite the flames, when to, Put it to rest in favor of the waves Pulling us down into the white, the maelstrom, They still. And our lips scald the others.