Is this not fire?

Is it the coldness of doubt

Or just plain consciousness

That sprinkles hinderances

Along our route?

Am I so unconvincing

In giving example of love,

So that you would send

By way of your messenger,

Your subtle rejection of me?

You will not be out tonight

And never in future nights.

Then I will forevermore

Have misplacement of you

Within the warmth my heart.

I was thought to have here

The kindling for your love,

Instead naught more but Tinder wooden sticks,

And all for your empty hearth.

©️2019 words and picture Christopher Thompson

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