Prompt at Mama's Losin' It - Choose a poem you like. Take the last line and use it as the first line of your own poem.
A poem Kay shared with me once that always moves me - Oranges by Gary Soto - and it has a wonderful last line... I was making a fire in my hands.
I was making a fire in my hands.
The surge of my heartbeat
pushed pulsing heat down into fingertips
and I held my hands out to him. Fire smoldered.
Hot and hotter still they burned
with the need to be filled
with something I could not name.
I could not say, give it to me. Fire flared.
He looked down into the offered palms, confused.
I knew then he did not see the flames there.
The aching burn that was growing all consuming
all denial and desire and something more. Fire burned.
There in my upturned hands was an open plea
to make me whole again, make me complete;
but he did not understand to quench the unseen fire
I only needed his cool touch. Fire consumed.