Glass Flame Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The resplendent fire,
If you hold on to it – never to let go
As if the rain that pours madly
From the infinite sky,
Will be the reason to build an ashen-furnace
On your dry face, washed up bodies by the shore
You are one of a kind, the madness pools in my veins
And they will not ebb – I am clogged with fallacies
Look, the lighthouse points to the direction
Of all the ashes that flickered in flight
You are one of a kind – you are a glass flame,
I hold on to you, with my tight, wrenched grip
And you smolder inside the palms of my hand;
I let you go, as a mad man should let go, of a love that is scarce,
But plenty with qualms,
And you break – you shatter, and the fragments seek resolution,
But not in my hands, nobody can ever hold you –
You are a glass flame,
And we are all human,
Every heaving breath is vital,
Still, your raze is phenomenal, like any other woman
Of endless grace and marvelous structures,
You are a marvel, I am an audience,
And maybe I am inadequate, like the November Sun hoisted
Above your head,
It paints the sky with a bland tangerine,
And it warms not my hands, only the fine lines of resiliency
In between your hair, and the stagnant rivers of the torched rivulets
Inside of me;
You cannot be clasped in between hands,
You are a glass flame – your fire ignites the soul and sunders it far off,
And your borders are broken glass, you are prickly and lethal –
Under the boundless sky, I prayed
That may the waters extinguish the flame in you –
But then your body is buoyant,
You are a glass flame, and a glass flame,
You will be.