To burn
I wrote this poem to burn — for the heavens to taste
take my soul, a light — a match — and scatter on the breath of god
I wrote this poem because although it was not the highest fall
my heart still breaks along the same lines
the ashes of books and the ashes of women look identical
and when they burned witches, they taught them how to fly
breathe in my flaming particles
(harvest them in your nostrils)
And watch me while
for a second I harbor the sun
My skin alight in the evening air
My body adrift
scattering
searching
escaping
grafting skin and bones to air and flame and stars
Take my pieces to rebuild
recycle the same soul material into something new
Something beautiful
To burn