I make art in strange places and blog about it.

Gift of Heat

When you send your fire like this,

rebuking me for your arcane little reasons,

spilling your passionate inner world of irrational heat,

it bugs me.

I let it bug me. This is my problem.

There’s no accounting for taste, there’s no accounting for reason.

You’ve sent me a gift. From your box of fantasies, I acquired a gift

that you’ve created.

You sent me some heat

and for that

I should thank you.


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