arsonists 

we stick together. 
i found you because you were
burning sheet music on your roof. 
we fall in love as our people always do. 
eat pizza in gas station parking lots. 
take pictures walking the railroad tracks. 
all of this just so we could
bring what we want to burn
to your backyard.
calendars & teeth. a pair of eyes.
the sun & the moon move
like dolphins in the sky.
up & down. we stand still
as the world rushes cuckoo clock.
i've always thought your hands
were too soft to kill me.
i tell myself this
when, in the dark, 
their shadows bloomed so large
they could choke me. 
your smile turns
into ash. you bring 
your axe body spray & play
it in the flames. a tiny little explosion.
you say, "that is my head."
i see the fires in your throat. 
i never wanted to end up
so angry. so contained.
first in my body & then in yours. 
the only thing left is burning.
we have never found anything
in the ash but we take turns
convincing each other that we will.
sometimes when we kiss
we find apricots. they're always
not quite ripe. you pull out 
your own hair to keep the fire going.
i do the same. this can't go on 
much longer, can it? 
one of us has to make the move
to add the other to the flames.
i know you will make 
the first move. when you do
do not treat me like kindling.
look at me & try to remember
the green lighter we found on the park bench,
how a fire always begins
with a soft but weighty hunger.
you cannot have a fire 
without a witness.