Poem: 'more' by Heather Dawson

'more'
by Heather Dawson

First that growl

Then the world goes black

It's tar - it's pitch

The only light is the flame

Your fire - that spark that illuminates

- reflecting your hunger –

A hunger that's forever old

Through the beginning of time

Heat seeking heat

A flint - to catch your spark

And stoke and expand

To blue flame

But

fire needs to feed

And so let it feed on me

Consume me to ash

My flesh my blood

My self my soul

Let it all be a feast

Laid before the fire inside that is summoned forward

In the pitch - in the black

She is only warned by first that growl