Burning Love

greg skidmore

Write my name on a matchbook

throw the thing away.

Better yet set the book on fire.

I'm no good.

I will break your heart.

I am a blind man with

an elephant, everything

feels new to me

but what am I touching?

Kisses feel like bug bites

or the viper wandering.

Bodies sliding

souls collide,

this the last of me.

Two can't occupy

the same space

as one.

Who then is gone?

Write my number on your hand

then cut it off.

Sorry we met.

sorry I pressed.

Now I will live without you.

How?

Published by greg skidmore

30 years a professional chef now retired and involved in commentary, creative writing and all things lyrical  View profile

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