a poem from my upcoming novel, Tales of the Mistress....
I believed in you, and truth be told, a little more than in myself.
Your hot flames take blue from the sky and Maman's eyes, steal the red from the sun, and the beg the black plum leaves to touch them as they edge towards dying.
Little flames grow, with you in charge.
I was happy, with you in charge.
You could take care of yourself and because you were so big and strong you could take care of me too.
You knew what to do and I trusted you. You would always be there. We were a pair.
I danced in front of you. All around you. I love you!
But I turned my back and you were gone. I thought you were building, but you were dying.
I gathered the small sticks, and kneeled. I blew into the smoke, holding my fire stick to my lips.
Could I be important to you?
I fed you my last bread. The edges crackling and turning black.
Our flames grew.
I won't ever turn away, again.