Sunday Things: Firelight

By Annette Marie Hyder

(very late Sunday night/early Monday morning)

Your scent stays with me
like woodsmoke on this cold night

reminding me of fire
and the way that I caution myself
as I inch closer and closer to you
that fire is beautiful
but it also burns.

Long after I am in bed
under the covers

and surrounded by pillows
my dreaming self reaches out
drawn to the warmth of your flame.
I wake with roses trellising my cheeks
like a crop of kisses.
I warm my cold fingers

and cool my hot cheeks
one with the other
while firelight dances
with thoughts of you
in the room behind my closed eyes.