i, arsonist
gingerly eyeing the fuel
i carried here
long mouldering under
deferred desire
expectant i pant
pacing like the little fox
awaiting your arrival
to slowly finger
the matchstick brightness
of your smile
consider this fragile swaying flame
fanned by fluttering eyelashes
or the breathy surrender of logic
unexpectedly delicate
against your strong arms
bearing this up, up the hill
we cannot see beyond
and then when i am shining
and dancing and burning i see
too late what it is that you
have brought along
balanced precariously
until now
your shoulders taxed with the burden
of two great pails of water
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