by Margot Bollock
There is a cavernous chill outside.
The sun is simply done
With this day. And so are we.
The night is brimming with marvel.
While the sap whistles
And boils in the burning wood,
Orange flames joggle your face
And gently suck attention from it.
Our eyes are locked with bewitchment.
I can sniff arson in your skin.
I feast on your language.
You swoop into me
Like a blackbird zeroing to seed
Or a hawk to prey
Its talons raking stars from the sky.
My eyes are glazed from the fresh winds
Of our breath. My heart is a mare
Galloping me to limbo.