Love Light

On tippy-toes she gleams and throws

her shade on shadowy spots.

Tied to a rope, she holds out hope

of rampantly running a-mock.

Dancing til then, she twirls and she bends

with silhouettes grotesquely tall,

who follow her leads, their elbows and knees,

herky-jerking the wall.

And she fills the room with waxy perfumes

as she sweats in her heated light;

cinnamon sticks and licorice whips

for the lovers who lit her’s delight.

They’re lying in knots, their energies shot

while she burns herself to the wick.

So, if they want her moods at their next rendevous

they had better blow her out quick.