My brain is a furnace burning
in a skull plated so thick in steel
you can't feel its heat but by
the back of your hand.
Stoked in a mother's breath
and father's hand, flame flickers
along spectral bands as the wick,
once taught and thickly tied,
turns to grains of ash. In the midst
of incendiary heat and blinding
doubt, beats my heart and counts
its time with spouts of
madness.