Absolution

That cozy winter cabin,
a black body 
radiating what's left
of a dense blaze.  
Resigned to bitter self-indulgence
for the sole purpose 
of propagating selfness -
unalone 
as long as possible. 
What a dweeb, 
I'd say, 
peering past the porch. 

The cello and violins
stopped fighting
and released a single note
devoid of tonality,
echoing engagement. 
Left with
a brick to talk to
in the receding symphony.  
A hearth stone you gave me,
knowing you'd be gone soon. 

Smoke bellowed.
Ash on my face,
I wrap myself in coniferous
fumes. 
Hoping to rekindle - 
gentler - 
to feel goosebumps 
lured into a brazen reach 
for your vibrant light. 

Oh word? 
I didn't ask for gym motivation, 
you fucker.
I didn't ask for batting practice.
It's a rest day anyway. 

Wake to our nights
and spark into ecstasy. 
Or one night:
I'd chop wood into 
the cold, brisk dawn
for a final gasp,
for farts and giggles.

Fuck it, use me. If meaning
nothing
means anything. 
Stand on the rungs
of my emotional scaffolding.
Reconcile your 
devastatingly romantic
shituationship. 
At least hang 
this wrought iron up
when your done.