Pyre

If I knew you a smidgeon better
I’d be jumping through flaming rings
with you
just to show you, you wouldn’t catch fire.
I’d tie myself to your pyre of fear
and circle myself with a hoop of gasoline
tracing the radius of my feet
and let you decide whether the stake
would ignite.
Tonight, not tomorrow
no matter the hour, I’d sit and wrestle thoughts
of ‘who knows’ and ‘what ifs’
meet you in a stranded parking lot
for a conversational tryst.
Please, even if you don’t take me up
on this
don’t let today pass by
without a lyrical script
written about your viable wish.