We are twin flames,
made to burn each other,
consumed by our counterpart’s thoughts,
we don’t know what’s going on in our own minds,
possessed by every waking thought
that exhausts
knowledge.
Matches lay before us,
spent,
burnt,
collateral of us trying
to stay together
without losing control of who we are.
I am selfish,
and think I am good for you,
picking up a match and asking you
to light it again.
You think I am pretty when I am a martyr.
I kiss the ash and push it toward you,
growing cold in your quiet.
I know that the tethers are splintering.
I feel the distance grow,
like someone darkening a room
as they wander out with the oil lamp,
searching for something new.
I love you in the ways of More;
More than life,
More than death,
More than myself,
More than you will ever know.
I have forged a new tether for us,
that can only grow stronger from the heat of our forges,
something made of metal
that can link us together,
no matter where life throws us.
I buys flowers for myself,
they die
from the smoke of spent matches
but I still go to the grocery store,
I don’t care that they die,
I just want you to see what your love does to me.
We are twin flames,
and when you saw me kiss our hurt
you fretted,
realizing that I was paper;
folded, cut, pinned,
molded into a origami dog
straining against a leash
to feel your light on my face.
*
Art by @xstazioa on Instagram.
The Word Not World Series (WNW) is an interactive anthology where, once a week, I share a photo and peers give me words that inspired them. Their words inspire poetry, like this one. This poem was inspired by “tethered,” from both my mom and @catscratch345 and “pinned” from
.Thank you for your inspiration. If you would like to join in on the fun, I post the picture prompt every Saturday on Substack, and my Instagram page @enis.st.sparrow
Lovely