The sun is up- there it is!
bright and bright in the
newly-born sky.

What a thing
to see, to feel, to grow
into like a sunflower.

It pulls
it pulls
it pulls me in
in towards its stand-alone glory.
butter coloured and proud,
matriarchal,
made to last.

The sun is up- there it is
burning white into my sockets
empty, always empty-
staring at things I cannot see
searching for answers that cannot be found.

Burning, always burning
Burnout is what he calls me
Ash and ash and ash-
made of gas, is it?

The sun is up- there it is
tendrils of flame too large to
see, to feel, to grow into
like a sunflower.

turning heads irrevocably
Burning skin
piercing sockets
empty, always empty

Yet there it is,
filling the sky with one absolute
One absolute
Father, Mother, Son, daughter-
Nuclear.

The sun is up- there it is
bright
and bright
and beautiful.