kindling

across the room

you reach out 

your slender arm

to make a point

apart from the freckles

dusting your skin

I notice a burn

just below your wrist

a small red

angry arrow

pointed and sharp

freshly made

I think of you

in your kitchen

your mind wandering

the saucepan slipping

it wasn’t there yesterday

an impromptu bathroom

rendezvous

your fingers still wet

   back in the room

focus 

I tell myself

on theories and diagrams

but I cannot stop

musing about how the scar

is the same size

as my mouth

you seem to sense

that very thought

your lips quirk at me

eyes flashing

later in the week

I also burn myself

a scarlet rose

on my breast

when we meet next

between anthropology

and archeology

I let your mouth

wander there too

your soft curls

usually restrained

now tumble like wildfire

over my skin

you seem rather smug

after, walking down the rows

of books, hips swaying

possessing this new power

later

I laugh to myself

the greatest burn of all

was for each other’s touch

I lie here now

still smouldering 

at the thought of you