Two Brush Fires, Two Versions

Two brush fires?
Oh would that I could move quickly through your underbrush.
The tongue of my flame would lick you roughly.
The heat of me would make your insides sweat.
If there are two, one burns undisciplined.
The other—controlled, deliberate—
Slowly consumes only what it wants,
Only all of you

.…………………….

Two brush fires? No.
In the smoky sunmoonlight of this midsummer twilight,
I am the embers that smolder under your feet
As you sleepwalk through a waking dream
Of you waking next to me.

7/5/98 10:16 PM