Places of Love: the silver ring

This is what I have been doing –
polishing the ring you gave me;
oxide in the grooves that I rub
leaves a welt of soot on muslin,

like desire it chokes my heart.
The naked bulb leaves imprints
of filament in my eyes that no amount
of winking can rub away.

I have to remove these from inside –
the filament, the trace of ring.
The way the beautician pushes
the cuticles, takes one finger at a time

to prod the dirt away till pale moon
appears on a bloodshot nail,  
I burn the want out of every moment
and open my heart to love for you.

Poetic Asides Wednesday Prompt – use a line (‘burn the want out of every moment’) from Robert Lee Brewer’s personal notebooks 

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