Something catches

we were the kind of fire
that didn’t ask for permission…

cheap wine,
a cracked sink,
your laugh like a bottle breaking
in a quiet room.

i loved you the way
a person loves a bad habit:
knowing it’s killing them
and reaching for it anyway.

outside, the city droned on…
singing its dirty hymns.

and inside,
we built a faith from
unfinished mornings,
bare knees,
and the air-conditioner’s thin argument
with the heat.

you said my name…Sreedhari…
like it was spare change,
like it was nothing…
but i spent it all.

i watched you move through the kitchen
in that old shirt,
the one with the hole at the hip,
and i thought:
this is how poverty shines…
not gold,
not grace,
just skin.

you leaned in,
mouth tasting of limoncello and second thoughts,
and i swear
the world narrowed to a single room,
all sharp corners and borrowed brightness,
telling the truth too close.

then you said it…quiet,
like a warning you didn’t want to be right:

“erba secca brucia veloce.”

dry grass burns fast.

and we were dry…
two beautiful reckless things,
full of summer and thirst,
full of history we hadn’t earned,
full of matches.

we lit up easy.

a touch.
a look.
a stupid joke.
a slammed door.

flame.

the kind that makes you feel holy
for ten minutes
and homeless for a year.

i loved you in sheets that smelled like
yesterday’s sweat
and tomorrow’s leaving.
i loved you in the morning
when your eyes were tired
and your mercy was gone.

you weren’t cruel.
you were just honest…
and honesty is a knife
when you’re naked.

dry grass burns fast,
but it burns bright…
it announces itself
like trouble,
like youth,
like a woman who knows
she won’t stay.

we burned down
in the most ordinary way:
not with a grand goodbye,
not with violins…

just silence,
a key on the table,
the last beer gone warm,
the air still hot
where your body used to be.

and later,
alone,
i held a match
over the sink,
watching it eat itself
to the finger,
thinking:

some loves don’t die slow.

some loves
are built to vanish.

erba secca brucia veloce…

and I still smell you
every time something catches.