By Gabrielle Swartzentruber

The twinkle in your eyes

Lights the blazing inferno

In your smile, and is the

Gunpowder in your laughter

Unbridled and booming,

Yet is merely ash hinting

At the volcanic love

Underneath.

I try to cling to you

But my only reward is

Scorched hands – the scabs only

Cover the blood

Underneath.