a crimson matchstick
rasps against chequered paper
speaking an ancient language
as a fire flickers to life
licking against beige wood
devouring oxygen which
fuels the warm glow
that the blaze emanates
while the edge of the flame
leaps towards a wilted wick
olive wax frothing and bubbling
as a woodsy scent drifts upwards
and the fumes from the potion
mask the nightmares
which chase down
your dreams.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee Culture
PoetryIn which tiny snippets of time are cut and pasted together. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Poetry #30 (29/01/19) © 2019 evethespy. All Rights Reserved.
