I built a fire of gusto
shaved my legs
and told myself I’d wait.
I climbed a tulip
named my breath Beauty,
and claimed I knew my fate.
By the start of the hour,
I’d shown eager my power
and built my garden of roses.
I dug deep into dirt,
placed Beauty inside
and waited for morning to come.
I stood on branches of wind
grew warmth with the heat,
and saw I had
forever won.
For when morning came
I had fate by the hand,
skin as smooth as your land,
and breath that breathed
finally,
a fire of love.
