<coal

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molten flame
bores trough embers trapped in black chalk.
"let me out!"
each one fiends for gasoline.
If you were to mix oil paints
blue
gold
orange
and
red,
would the shade be labeled fire?
like voyeur peeking through half-closed blinds,
this violent flow stares back at me with eyes of
heat.
They reside behind
charred prison bars,
cages for sadistic felons.
we do what we can to limit the
burn scars,
but it's difficult to keep the
coal
from corrupting



you.





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