The Blanket

It’s what you do that worries me

It’s not how you do it

It’s how they do it

A little poison and a spark

Is enough to start a fire

A fire so short yet not dim

One ember is all it takes

To burn our bridge

This land

It was our beginning

Beautiful eyes and carless whispers

Have taken their place before

And burned the path before them

As her mistake ignites on the floor

The ice melts at home.

To be seen as no foul

He refuses to try and freeze over her greedy omission

And make what was once genuine

Sound again.