Flammable Intention
sancho panza cigar
mid-way through the cedar
leather and salt flavors emerges
a well-aged companion and jim beam
whiskey fire on the stick amber in the mason jar
her thighs my sighs epicurean taste bar none the sweeter
she rattles my fall state of mind in the crispness of the birches
a cart of firewood overturned
oil lantern filled with flammable intention
arianrhod appears without a shadow of a doubt memory
her welsh namesake I go in search for a silver wheel
the only pair in my house separated from my heel the
rowels on my spurs anointed with lavender oil but never
spurned be it far from me to mention the turning point in
the erotic story the ash saved in old opium tincture and
laudanum vials blackened remnant of the cornfield burned
taste buds left
without a sour note
life went on wolves alpha'd
and muses manifested constant inspiration
aces up the sleeves tucked premonition to sleep
waking the unconscious dripping vulvular meringue
on one whole hair pie bushy and untrimmed letting go
of fine lines fate wrote
give the
reaper his due
and me the scythe
the blood bath harvest
jaded and kilted the days
take leave of the leaves
cry the sheaves light the sky
Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, Celebrity firebrand lesbian novelist
Ron