By The Night Fire Poem by Adam Lally

Come lay your body under this tree
we will build a fire of mane and clove
that shall shine upon us like a marquee
its glowing tint with our skin bestowed

Although the arms have fallen from its crown
the trunk has weathered many a storm
and covered in a coveted glove
we shall lay here my love

Bringing your hands closer to thee
you slowly begin to study the tired ruins
the deep valleys and steep hills of my flesh
your fingertips like cold candles flicker across me

My goose bumps match the moon’s scabrous surface
each crater in between carved by you the engraver
and my hairs stand up to become tall cypresses
with their scaly needles lacing like rapiers

As the quavering wind rests its bellows
the soft crackles of blazing tinder
echo in the smoke rings of yellow
and the cool warmth playfully lingers

Your silhouetted thighs daintily oscillate
as our eyes cast out their cinder flares
and set alight to the gentle leaves
while the stars envy with bright stares

And now seeping from our veins
a honey made of blood and gold
will now trickle far past the day’s remains
and beyond where the wild strawberries were sold

And it will mingle with the stream
the stream where the loves of all lovers go
through sand, rock and mud it will flow
and into the great cave of memory it will row