Was bathed in flames
Saw drips in doorways
And named them her soul?
Sparkles darkened in front of her;
She fell beyond gone, lost her knees in the process;
Was waiting for you
On crowded corners.
Your face was lost, a smear.
She’s still not sure
It’s you.
Did you ever think
That tears fall in torrents,
Dance in the sun, act like stars, and rush
Everything to the past?
She’s still
All oozy scabs. So her arms burn you:
You misread the heat.
Though she’s stopped,
Dropped,
Rolled toward a puddle--
Tried like hell just to be cool--
All that fluff is fire awry, the riot
of cells
in the air. 200-2007 © Barbara Bales all rights reserved
Comments more than welcome; comments LONGED for! :) hehehehe
Bales Law