SOFT FUEL

is the touch of a woman
on my skin. They shatter darkness
inside my soul
& stretch
what cannot be
into a homeostasis
of hope.
How often have they
injected a casual touch
into a crowning validation;
how they allow me
to preen or crow
without pretense or prevarication.
They have lent me
courage with a glance
& stemmed the fears
of a heart gone mad
from reality.
Sometimes,
I wish to go inside them
& sleep, nestled,
curled up,
in their natural bed
of curlicues
& mysteries.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017