Ashes For Beauty Poem by Christopher Okiri

All I have is ash, frost, from this gust, my fire being gone,
Spent in quick-leaping flames that brightened her eyes
keeping her hands warm and full with alchemist's gold

Her hands pull away to find a new flame to cup around
She finds a furnace that casts long shadows around her
Embracing her with arms open wide and heart closed

Now I am cold and need the hands I had kept warm
To kindle my dying ember… to wrap around my heart
To shield me from rage of this gust dousing flames

Sparkles from her new flame are fiery darts shot at me
Pointing at my freezing heart like daggers in cold hands
Too cold to be act of good, too crude for coup de grace