Heather T

wisp

the flame went out

 

the searching smoke

curled wild and winding

her smile was just like that

uplit incandescence

that nested other worlds

in the hollow of her lip

 

a wisp

she whispered

 

scatter me

 

we were infidels of dark

and clutched it all

our heaving breasts beaten

fists of gathered wax

and ashes

 

our fingers smudged

the paper angels

as she burned

in other glories

 

matchless