Embers And Puddles Poem by Eir LindstromHolmy

We sit together, alone in a room,
and attempt conversation.
The first touch has not yet broken
the wall between us.
But it's like trying to ignite
damp wood with cheap matches
and we fail each other
and suffer each failure
while pretending to forget
how cold the world is
without fire.
Words are only stumbling blocks
in moments like these.
But the heat in your hand
as it runs down my knee
ignites something in the smile
that I give to you
and our eyes burn
as our bodies melt
our hearts, pounding,
break the ice
so once again
we can drink.

Deeply.