Embers

I often imagine you
being absorbed into the sun,
filtered through the clouds,
and strained through the rain.
The sun reflects its bright warmth
against your pallid structure;
your hair is its mirror.

But a contrasting darkness
flows through your veins.
I hear the demons in you laughing,
with my head pressed to your chest.
They're sledding through your arteries,
and bounce with every beat of your heart,
whispering poems of livid gore
and pleasurable manslaughter.

But the darkness cannot overtake you;
Your heart's walls are warm yet solid,
and cannot be pierced.

The demons climb your elastic spine
and pull themselves into your brain.
The sun sinks through your skull and creates poetry,
and the creatures twist it and ignite it amber gold.
The specks of light launch themselves
through your retinas and land in your hazel irises.

The sparks ignite a flame in you.
Your body grows warm;
Fever dulls the demons,
and I am allowed to lay with you.
As the demons murmur,
silence ensues.

Reach into me and examine my virtue.
Take them in tattered ruins or
leave them untouched and whole.