RNA127001

There’s a fire
that kept on burning my days
fed on every minute
while I watch the flame
dance and play

Seconds ticking
smelling
like gasoline.

I can’t tell time,
a thick carbon dust
on the clocks
is all what I can see.

And no don’t call
the fire brigade
let the orange glow, let it glow
let it come closer
burn in anger
as it watches me grow,
let it see how out of my hands
lights, colors and a scented breeze
like a drunk with love proposing on his knees;
will flow.