Matchbox Romance

glow of recognition started woodstove fires lit candles started campfires cooking fires lit cigarettes cupped hands the short intimacy see the detail the colour of the eyes the scars the bold or wariness I love your poem the ritual account kept intact for me its been forever from my time of candles and romance too old now for that realities today are making sure theres enough bottled water in the fridge and the floor scrubbed the vacumed emptied but once long ago I remember the brilliant closeness of the fire strike the music chosen (If I squint I can just make out the room....)

Poets were a study for me it wasnt until I read their lifes story by their own hand or others (post-humous) that I began to understand the mystery of writing I had read many many books but when I was starving in a very fine apartment and freezing and listening to lonely haunted music and having visions from lack of food and long cold walks in darkness out of town to the jobyard and back at dusk well those traumatic and beautiful events opened my mind and in this aperature I grasped onto poetry like a dying soul gathering Milton from long ago Joseph Conrad Margaret Atwood Gwendolyn McKewan Milton Acorn Kerouck they saved me from tumbling into darkness when I fell into darkness their words illuminated me I glowed with a new found understanding of soul of spirit that i never thought I could own like it was given like it was a gift that I had deserved somehow and now people poets who were tortured by horrible emotional and physical sufferings wrote about it or created mythical places where their characters fought their battles and won the Alter egos The Altar Egos I call them creation myth is such a portent deed just because we may never have played out our poems doesnt mean they may never occur I did great amazing jumps to gain what painful threshold short realities I could find My fictions are my greatest peices to flesh and blood a moment not real but real thats far more then resigning thats magic my dear true magic and we breathe life in every readers day in our world here I am fond of your works they are kind sensual warm they fill a shadow in me I need them

I just love this piece Emarie It's been ages since I left you a comment! God knows why because I love your writing and how you play with words.... Your lines just flow smooth as butter ; ) I always feel there's music behind your pieces Emarie, I love that, I like to hear music in everything. Wonderful ~Stella