This Fire

No one loves you more ... more ... more ... There were sincere lies everywhere placed directly before the next step. Does everyone pretend, part of alive I am proposing words — All structures have crumbled in earliest death. I’m crossing the yellow sands It’s so hard to know without relating it, to you shaping a heart, take hold of me and someone says I don’t get it! You don’t have to have love, or you do, which? I don’t think you do; before the explosion? I was here without it and have been in many places loveless. I don’t want you to know what I’m really thinking or do I, before creation when there might be no “I knew” Everything one’s ever said not quite true. He or she be- trays you; why you want to hurt me ... bad Want to, or just do? Treason was provoked everywhere even here, by knowing one was one and I was alone, a pale hue. The sky of death is milky green today, like a poison pool near a desert mine. Picked prickly pear fruit and I tasted it, then we drove on, maybe to Yarnell. These outposts where I grew up; I didn’t do that I have no ... identity, and the love is an object to kick as you walk on the blazing bare ground, where ... sentimental, when what I love, I ... don’t have that one word. This fire all there is ... to find ... I find it You have to find it. It isn’t love, it’s what?