Conflagration

Conflagration

Quit the fire burning
Let it stand, smoldering
Back turned to the smoke,
Wrapping and twisting
Through an inhaled breath.

The shelf of darkness
Is steep away from the rim.
Miasma lingers in damp air.
It tastes of unwashed
Love; sweeter than smoke.

Caliginous is the fire
Left behind,
in search of
Brighter lights, stumbling
In the foreign dark,
Unsure memories
Of pleasant crackles.