Dead Wooden Bodies

Crackle, as you embrace dead wooden bodies
whitehot brands burn their dry skin
setting its cells on fire
making their hearts beat the last pulse.

Sparkle as the surface turns to ash
resting itself sleepy on blackness
and a smoky breath climbs gravity
to vanish in the air in an everlasting memory.

Your warmth cuddles me deeply inside
as November runs coldly outside the window.
Now put me down to sleep
as those dead wooden bodies you hold tight.

Enlighten me for the last time
so I can warm up the lonely ones,
and I'll sparkle in ash dancing down towards blackness
and I'll climb gravity as my least memory fades in the whole nothing.

m.