The Hurricane Lamp

A candle’s cage of violet glass
Contains the pain, displays the flame
And how, my love, we know that game—
It’s wildfire in the grass.

Contains the pain, displays the flame
Until the fingers splay to touch
The wildfire in the grass
That ebbs like a receding wave.

Until the fingers splay to touch
The deepening, raw red horizon
That ebbs like a receding wave
Between your parted lips.

That deepening, raw red horizon
Where half-to-half as one we cast
Between your parted lips, my love
A candle’s cage of violet glass.