His Fire

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Maybe I don’t want to walk along the frost laden walls that
Separate me from you and the from the centre
Of your dreams.
I will walk through the labyrinth and you will see my red
Cloak, hiding me from the woods where I was cold
without the bears bed.
I want to let down my hair so you can climb me, climb
Right into my tower and force me to spin gold from
Your threadbare wishes.
Maybe I will prick my finger on the needle of your heart and
You will show me the wolf inside with such piercing eyesight
And eat me alive.
I will not gaze longingly into your eyes because you woke me
Among thorns and weeds with a kiss.

You slew the dragon that guarded my cold dreams.
I was in love with his fire.

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