singe songs


eyelashes crumbling, a curling photograph you throw
into the sink, too late. how will you remember. self-
immolation is easy, but when some other hand is striking
the match, it is pure simplicity. hold a magnifying glass
up to you and wisps of smoke will rise, burn memory
in a metal jar and then clench it between your fingers.
sing of everclear and lighter fluid while you smother
your dreams with scarred hands. sing of scorched
mothers and fathers with a throat gone dry and raw
in the smoke. you are burning the fields. there is new
seed to sow and new rain to pray for.

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