Like a firefly
swimming in a pool of mist
I am eager for the cold
purity of light from
your abdomen's seductive cinema
to ratify the chemicals of caution
I'm to flare in the vicinity
of salivating predators
while you oversee the chemistry of us
with your cinder beacon
of incensual exemption
from formalities of ultraviolet numbers
Rather let us deal
in the metaphysics of the seasons
and wait out the autumn mist
for the white noise of winter
and its lullaby of woolen hibernation