.
My hands are not on you
A human torch
combusting
spontaneously
smouldering my best
through a day time
dangerously
inflammable.
Waiting for a spark
to catch.
By night
I'll be fire glowing
burnmarking
under the same sky
as you
and the sunset
will again
envy
me,
It is without noise and unable to last.
______________________
-Peace
.
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