Kindling

Lil space in that heart
empty for a while
room for spiders
room for longing

a conspiring imagination teams up with the stale space
they spin out of control in the silence
not enough friction for a spark though
and after the movement
a minute becomes a century

And the mind pretends to be separate and unacquainted
wandering off as the heart becomes desolate again
part of me is a lumberjack
hauling logs in to create a fire

The trickster in me almost got lost in the long trees
picking out twigs and kindling sensitively

It would all be burning and joining
to heat the heart and serve it through fire

That lil space be hot now
and this part of me lives again
like a robot plugged in