Less Than Three

it’s like a spark that spreads
to trace across the bloom
to descend the stem
then consume the roots.

it started off so small
like a flame confused
a kiss upon a bench
unsure of what to do.

to find where the flame ends
i follow tangled roots
to find the flame in me
traces back to you.


thank you for the silence–
one that leaves me splintered.
a silence that seems stolen,
gold like the warmest winter.

i won’t try to hide it:
that which makes me thinner.
i want to starve inside it:
a model to a mirror.

it holds the coldest glow.
the air itself gets thinner.
and i would gladly drown
if your quiet were a river.