The Firetender

She says she doesn’t believe in promises that nobody can keep
In the push and throng of domestic animals let out doors
Stumbling howling colliding panting in the dark
Grunting pain and satisfaction
One undulating tremor push toward the pursuit
of “Pursuit”
I have to agree
(Won’t stand against a tide. Only one man.)

But she couldn’t see between her own half closed eyes
Forced heat shooting sparks through tiny ventilation
A glowing liquescent heat
In measured exhales
Breaths between breathing
Fanning an ember
And the spark that caught from the top of my head
That lit me up and burned me
From my hair
To scalp to my skull my brain
To my face my neck to shoulders
And driving down
Like an condemned brick building
(Its occupants fled)

“Let it burn,” from the street they crowed knowingly.
“It’ll burn itself out. It’ll make itself small and dark and we’ll see.
The world will be better without her.”

So I took the spark home with me
I sat it on the floor
Began telling stories
It crackled satisfaction
The grain on my hardwood floor
A bottle of wine and a night that bled seamlessly
Into every other night

I’ll wait
I’ll keep watch
Without casement
Without tools
I listen
We talk into the night
(Bedtime stops mattering)
I’m warm
And the oxygen is leaving the room
I blink and phosphenes dance in my eyes

I know
Eventually I’ll fall asleep
And the dream I keep holding may/will go away
Leaving a mark of soot on my floor
Or it will wrap around me and I’ll go quietly too

But it can’t make me stop thinking the thought that I’m thinking
When I do sleep maybe the lights in my eyes will be enough
Maybe the patterns of the lights that I burn into my eyes will be enough

I won’t look away

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