I live with my denial
that I never reached you
inevitably it’s true,
every attempt
to notice my lights
fly by nights
lifting the weight of your doubts
familiar ground,
down on my knees
your world is heavy,
I’m Atlas left holding
falling questions at each side
midnight embers in your steelyard,
It takes cold faith
to walk on burning coals
If it’s anything like your fire
the smoldering of my heart
will recognize your love
as simply matchsticks
in the greatest bonfires,
I want to rub against
something more than sparks
in the lesser lights
This passion I carry
I cry– lost about its source
starved without love
a white ghost,
left alone to burn
caught in a back draft
with only years,
and the quiet reckoning of flames.

– Rafael Andrade Garza © December 13, 2007