Anon
The Inner Life of Fires
I step into a fire and drink
until I speak out with water.
I pass the mouth of a dead scream.
The trees fall around me, my axe fails.
I know something of the inner life of fires.
I am intimate with flames, have experience of burns.
I find a candle and stretch the wick.
I strike match after match
until the smoke of my blindness returns.
The wind is like water in dry uniform.
It wails in the distance, like help is at hand.
Inhuman voices marching into air.
Page(s) 28
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