Sunflower
Whether both eyes open or none,
I see the light pull off you
ripples pulling off a great splash of fire.
A glow in the night not made by the moon. I become
a candle by your touch. I am not lit
by the stars, my breath a little shorter
in the inhalation of you, my body
a torch in the dark. I spent my days
picturing your body in the dim heat
of my cigarette. An obsession with the burning
in my throat, the same sensation of your mouth
on mine, a heavy tension hanging in my ribcage
as the smoke filters through.
*
When you leave for good I am not sad,
not afraid. I could have been the sunflower,
tempted out to watch you roll over the sky.
Instead I choose not to grow for you,
deep within the ground, I keep my own beacon,
a fire gliding through my veins.
[© 2010 Sophia Nelson]
