Originally posted 12/19/2004.
My mother has always said
that when I was born,
I yelled like kindling
crying for a match,
but I have never yearned
for the fires I’ve started
as much as I have longed
to be soothed by their quenching.
My deepest hope is that
one can of gasoline away
from wherever I am,
there’s a world
that forever smells
of approaching rain.
Dark Matter 