A fire burns below the navel.
and the heart turns ice.
hard and frozen
waiting for time
to move
from one moment
to the next
and then
slowly
it begins to melt
a wet chill
begins to spread
the fire
dissolves
and
a dream begins to take shape
the same dream
that came to me yesterday
and the day before that...
and before that
the fire and ice
spread
warm
snug
the sun is bright
the birds sing
but nothing moves.
everything is still
still in its beauty
procrastination.
