Fire Wound
I.
I buried our bits
behind
the house
Wolf and bird
your wing in my mouth
petrified wood aflame
backyard cemetery
bearing the bones
of my childhood pets
composting the past
poking coal cores
til they bleed
stone circle
in between
lined pine trees
II.
You left your lighter
on the floor
your shirt
on me, that’s
the closest
you’ll let
yourself
be
Suffocating
in the space
of the circle
of your arms
the flame chokes
but you won’t
close your
grip
III.
I poured alcohol
on the fire
a ring
close enough
so it would
venture outside
Now the charred dirt
the smoky soot
and booze smell
will heal
and I’ll dig
with my
unpolished
fingernails
bed to bed
and put
your
things
to rest
IV.
You won’t come
to the grave
as it is, you
just want to
put out
cigarettes
leaving
buts and
sorrys
in
the
dust
V.
The earth will burn raw
curling the roots
in ways
they had
never
been
before
the fire
