| You tried to take my red metals with your wolf jaw tongs to forge a body never to be flame-licked again but I reached out and held you by the throat, pressed my ear to your chest that meadow startled with magpies. You are not the first man who tried to make my body a smoke. But here I am to silver the air and surround you like a sky vast enough to take your embers into itself; I've been made to carry your fires. Copyright © 2017 Thomas Dooley. Used with permission of the author. |
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