These pages smell of diesel
kissing my fingers--
   leafing to an empty space to lay some ink.
such kisses linger upon my palms
and a whiff is caught off guard
trudging past my senses.
A diesel cologne my lover wears--
   these pages wear his scent.
Each time my hand raises to
brush away a tear    i smell this
diesel dream,
       drilling through a weary mourning.
some mystery to how each page
wears diesel--an accident
frought with irony
       caution:flammable
hearts play with matches.
should my pen strike this
page--ignite?
shhh, let not this diesel lover reply
            close your eyes--for
            the flames already lick
            at your lashes to open.
lest hearts awaken.
diesel pages
whisper memories yet to be had--
   quietly, for slumber still blesses
innocent heart's diesel desire.