I’m going to buy one of those bottles and stick you in it.
Ha! Promise?
Yes. And I’m serious.
Oh I know you are.
I’ll let you out but only when it amuses me.
You don’t have to trap me.
I know. But I wanna be sure you don’t get away.
You have to want to get away to actually get away.
I’ll give you air occasionally. Every 6 hours.
Promise?
Yes I promise.
Deal.
I remember when
you took out those matches.
Pulled the red tip over the matchbox
and started that fire.
It happened so fast.
Your eyes glued to mine.
Watching me watch you,
as you threw the flame to the ground.
Stunned, I watched it burn bright
lighting up the night,
I was mesmerized.
Then
I pulled you away.
I moved my lips up to yours,
looked right into your eyes,
whispering
…behave…
as I kissed you.
Do you want me to?
Yes… and no.
I don’t want to.
I know you don’t. But I warned you about fires.
Mmmhmm I know.
Then I reached out, took the matches from your hand, and pulled you down the path, as the fire continued to hiss and crackle behind us.
I love this poem, Oona. It’s so good I was wondering if it was a lyric. I even tried googling it.
Same here, it is a beautiful poem, Oona.
Thank you Elle, I appreciate it so much. 🙂
Thank you so much Myra. I’m gonna actually try to do some writing this go around. hehe
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