“I haven’t had that feeling again, even in love.”

It doesn’t surprise me there will be more fire, no fancy expensive reports necessary. It is as sure moths to the flame. There are more more moths now; carpets of them eat entire forests. Grey leaves.

Some people meet fire with fire: power, sales, foxes, storms, and boxes. I saw a teacher pick up a gun today.

I want to be a ponderosa. I smell like sweetness. When the fire meets my bark, I flake, impervious. Only I remain. In a previous life, maybe I walked off a cliff to give my body to a starving lioness and her cubs.

Advertisement