
This piece is part of Margins of the First Draft — a collection of poetry that was originally written in my teens, seems I was a very dramatic writer back then.
2. a Fire was lit in her heart
And I wish
That my poetry was a flammable fluid
With words spilling from my fingertips,
The smell of petroleum,
The light of a match
Set his world on fire
Poetry on the Margins #2 Afterglow
I wonder, if words alone could ever set someone on fire.
Think —
someone pisses you off and all you say is one, simple, word
and they turn to ashes.
Splendid... huh?
Well, that maybe is not what I meant.
Entirely.
More so,
I was hoping for a little sprinkle of magic this piece could evoke —
perhaps, even gently, tug on the heartstrings?
Perhaps haunt someone?
To be honest,
I certainly would love to haunt a person.
Note to self:
When I die,
haunt a person.
Misplace something,
to mildly inconvenience them.
Or something.

Perhaps I could invite you to read more of my work:
If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).
Or perhaps I could interest you in poetry and refections or something more personal like the Blog.
I also happen to own an IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.


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