scorched

the sky lightens with your touch, i’m left wounded –
you set fire to most things, are you aware of that?
even the door to hell tucked away in Turkmenistan
doesn’t burn half as long, as the entities you’ve
embraced. am i that filled with deadwoods
or are you just that potent?

i have no answers when it comes to you –
maybe that’s why i bathe you in celestial
light the way i do, or maybe,
it’s the pitfall of all humans to elevate
what they don’t understand.

what does remain is your presence,
i have the burn marks to prove it.