Saltpeter

I remember you
like distant turmoil
in the Caucasus,
fuelled by petro-chemicals
likely to ignite
someone’s life,
lovingly and luminously,
but with no longevity,
sometime soon.

And as the flames
die down and
all that is left
is a gasp of gasoline
in the back
of the
throat,
I am back in the Caucasus
and there is
distant turmoil.

That is how I remember you.