Origin of Fire

No matter how hard

I try to forget


in the future of my memories

it is always you that

appears in a forming,

-an effortlessness-

like desert rainfall,

like the way obsidian

catches light in the truculence

of its own darkness

you are placed in mind

like a sonder locked within

the story of your topaz eyes

and I find you there hovering

above the vast precarity of time –

within me

breaking, like

discovering fire

its origins at the root

of your heart


© K. James Ribble



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