like burnt sugar
the night we met,
i dreamt i was pablo neruda.
so that when i spoke,
the words were sweet
like burnt sugar
in my mouth.
or slow-running
molasses,
leaking,
from my heart.
i dreamt your skin
was mexican chocolate,
so that when you
touched
my face,
your perfect hand
left fingerprints
of cinnamon
on my lips.
i dreamt,
it was guadalajara
on dia de los muertos,
when your smile
caused my heart to
stop.
and then flutter to life.
like there was
a tiny, tin cage
of crickets,
whirring.
in my chest.
the night we met,
i dreamt you gave me
a kiss
and a thousand
fireflies
in a cracked mason jar.
glowing,
writhing sweetly,
and suffocating
in love.
by c.miller
january, 2001
That was one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read. How lovely that you are being so inspired during this difficult time. Imagine how Lori must feel to have such words penned in her name.
WOW!! I love this poem Cary. It is so beautiful and evocative.
[...] like burnt sugar is easily the most complete and fully-realized piece i’ve ever written, and I suppose that’s exactly as it should be, considering that it was inspired by the stunning young woman behind the espresso machine who would later become my wife. [...]