Pyre
(for S.L.)

Like errant grass,
your gold hair waves, 

curls over your blue eye;
an azure glittering 

ignites me to run,
to fall on grass, and  

lay, quivering,
a blue flame-

gas lit with a spark;
violet heat

pouring out
of my mouth and fingers,

flame cooling golden at the tips-
blue all over,

like your eyes,
bluer towards the middle

and cut with the curve of your pupil.
At the core,

deepest indigo
spreading golden at the edges

like grass rustling beneath me-
green, green grasses,

growing golden at their tips;
delicious tinder 

for my flames.

                        B.