I keep returning to the same place in my life where things remain dull and unmoving.
Sitting on the leather couch and a freebird singing on the radio the roll continues to
burn and I continue to fall into the room where it is quiet.

The sky is the color of fire tonight a flame caught in a mirror the width of a coffin.
He lay beside me and placed a word on the nape of my neck where it melted into
a bead of gas station alcohol.

I place my face against the cool glass of the window the size of your hand so I
can feel once again how it was for you to cradle my cheeks. Beyond the fire sky a
grey dawn lifts the smoke and I ignite.