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Blush
A hothot red glows circles on the cherries of my cheeks
spreading the burning to my nose.
I know I am on fire,
soft blows of breath---of flattery---
reached the embers in me.
This blush when I can't speak is entertaining
for the fire-started to see.
And I cannot stop clinging desperate to the mess---
those words that burst from my mind---
of unexpected applause left scattered in remains.
I want to stuff each word back into my ears
one by one
to awaken pin pricks in craving veins
and blush all over again.
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