Oxygen is plentiful
when it comes to Friday night's release.
I'm standing in the living room in
nothing but fuzzy, red slippers
made of synthetic fleece.
Is there anything sexier
than a person's flammability?
Give me a propane abdomen,
clear eyes of gasoline,
a vulnerable stray curl,
closeness,
volatility next to
fifty-eight kilos of
untapped heat.
Familiarity fuels me.
Here in our tinder bed,
stacking limbs
like kindling,
we wait for a
spark to be aroused
to see if it will catch
amongst the week's debris
and spread warmth
unattended,
burning down the house.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless
Cover Art: “Lust” by Alla Bogdanovic





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