Love Poem

October 25, 2017

The flame moves in on the house this weekend,
the clever box and its faux wood flooring
and whitewash cabinets, too many white
cabinets, the flame moving in and through,

the flame brandishing its sad ancient dance
of romance and boyish extravagance,
putting its whole fist into its orange mouth
and through the thin wall and ceiling again,

past the kitchen, past the bathroom fixture
tottering like a flame, flame inhaling
and exhaling its mad animal breath,
curious flame flattening its belly

to the foyer floor, flame hanging like meat
from the rafters, flame popping the windows
like glass balloons as so much that has passed
passes and moves through this fickle night…what

full force is in effect when the house bows,
when smoke makes its dim drawings, when the blinds
nod their heads as another ceiling fan
curls its wooden petals like a flower?