Forest Fire

I could see her there, just beyond the window pane, at the edge, cradling her entrails like a gift; swallowing the light of a newborn day. I wondered what made her do it, why her tongue had become a mirror, refracting her beauty back into the world; As a last gasp. Merlot tears ran quiet, her shoulders slumped down slowly, like crumbling church steeples, and I prayed, I prayed I prayed that I would forget the morning when everything finally went dark. -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.