LIGHT ME

By Imogen Wade

you arrive

                                        from the blue;

                                               I’m in a web

                                            and you are

                                                  the explorer

                                       with the branch

                                             who clears

                                          the path ahead

                                      of silver art.

                                               I, the fly,

                                          cling to your staff.

                                             my dreams

                                                  wrap tight

                                               around

                                             the form

                                                    of you—

                                               you are

                                           desire’s end,

                                                  your touch

                                               is desire’s fuel,

                                             and my poem

                                                       is

                                                      the

                                                   hissing

                                                    fuse.

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