Rendition

sparks glow under the
ashes banked up in
anticipation of morning light

the long night, stretched-out,
elastic, pours down around
her head, four-legged
stool her only support,

as she whispers, lips pressed
tight to the wall, how have I
come, how have I come, to
be, to be, to be

cool, the wall, plaster-white, daubed
with the last dirty protest, it
soothes the cheek seared over
with the flush of blood
concealed by black

while electric remembrances flash,
limbs thrashing through
the brainpan, the signs for arrivals
and departures are still evident
on the airport concourse, the
last embrace a sweet, a
sweet devouring