Matchstick Spells

I snuck the two in red wax,

tilting to the ether,

so slim. 

Splintered wood stands stuck, 

yet still santal, still sweet.

Sodium nitrate never falters.

Crack, charred under my fingers,

the poppy shade below unfurling-

ashy warmth, summer wine cherry. 

Sticking unfilterable,

you stay.

The other stayed upright.

The Tower, Death;

I saw it light and burn up alone

a comma now or colon:

Pompeii lover,

saltpetre smell still humming.

Tiny embers tipping the head.