Found, Wanting

the scales have been set

a thumb rested on the other plate.
-not the delicate fingers of fate.

so now,
my mighty flame is
a single ember
resting upon a bed of
sticky dew.

you see, concocting connectivity
takes more than magic,
or sex sparked electricity.
it takes more than time.
unfortunately, it even takes more
than a pretty little rhyme.

under a blanket of Fate,
you need Happenstance
and Kismet
and Angels by the dozen
roiling in a cosmic orgy,
busting the boxsprings of the Universe.

but even that orgasmic effort
will not turn
your heart
you see

emptiness twisting carefree in the wind.

you hear

starlight glimmering in your soul.


and a breeze blows,

that ember begins to glow…..

and a breeze blows.