Purity in the Fire

by Michael Fink

Curtains drawn in mist over the empty-eyed sunrise
Where we lie in poison swells, where our frantic breaths are stilled
Lazy saltwater sheets erase every trace of our existence
Even as the moon struggles for relevance
Against the blinding eye of heaven’s favorite
We dressed in pestilence and destruction before this
And manifested our dreams in prescient castles
Who crumble before the dauntless tides
Who stumble before the unblinking mind
A future by the fading firelight
Who twists and turns and shrinks to her embers
And blisters and burns ev’ry fool who dares touch her
I live in the fire, I love her
As she wraps those restless fingers ’round me
Spills out her passions, swarms to the source of my heat
She can dress in me, impress upon me her quivering art
And I will let flow all I know, ev’ry word I’ve composed
Just to watch her petals unfold, feel her blossom against the cold
Be the fuel to her growth, a god deposed who
Upon returning to her throne, would burn all I’ve known
Just to watch this expose the strength of our souls
To those who don’t know, those who won’t show
When we gather close atop the children of mountains
To watch the world explode
Curtains drawn in smoke over the rubble of the apocalypse
Where we lie in the grasp of nothingness, where these tantric eternities climax
Beholden molecules crash into the skin so graceless
Leaving no trace of the faces behind them
In their ache to bind themselves to the heavens
We dress in infernal enchantment amidst the wreckage
And manifest our reality in sacred texts
Who burn at the eyes of the uninitiated
And spurn the weakness of lesser beings
A flame that draws upon the flesh, leaves not pain, but bliss
That sifts through all these tiresome trivialities
To paint in oil that begs ignition, a masterpiece with this inscription
Here, a dream is merely a truth, yet to be undressed.

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