Kindling

Know what you’ve never known,
it’s a daunting task hidden high
in the morning, rituals soft as orchid

petals. Sometimes the fire is so
swollen, reddens the cheeks, feeling
faint and only posing as a pome-

granate tree, or a snake-bite, or worse,
or worse…It’s not easy keeping secrets,
but it’s easy to turn velvet as night–

Star-studded mind, we’re choosing
the remainder and we’re clamped
to a path we’re afraid to stray from.

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