Fire Roses

Today you grasped 
the stars as 
they were slipping off 
the edge of my horizon 
and shook them back 
into the sky.

You are 
quicksilver 
can leave me 
slow-footed  
wordless.

My skin is alive 
with the soft imprint 
of your mouth. 
How many miracles 
can there be?

As I burnt your letters 
the pages spread and curled 
bloomed 
like fire roses.