Midnight Burner

I stand straight-backed, one long limb

of pale, waxy white, trapped in brass.

I salute you as I am led from room

to room, scorching the dust  in your path.

I am a beacon, the flickering hope

in the dark of the night that you

reach for instinctively. You have sad days.

I allow you to peel off my skin, roll it

around in the palm of your hand.

It seems to comfort you. I am your one

source of light, my long running vein

lit by the flick of a wrist. My flesh

melting, you take pleasure in dipping

each fingertip in, watching it mould

to your touch. We are part time lovers.

In the light of day you do not reach for me;  

you strut through the house, chest bared,

proud as a day old punch. I remain,

cold-hearted, in the depth of your room,

waiting for the night to begin.

I decided to go through my files on my laptop and upload my older work that I wrote whilst at university. It'll take me a while to get through everything, but maybe by then I'll have written something new - it's been a while.