(untitled)

Slipping a coat off, the black dress wrinkles

over tan, burnt shoulders

Listen – like the crackling skin of a wall

in her grandmother’s house

blazing with too many flames in the 3’AM sky,

like crackling, bubbling skin

voices itch over those shoulders in short bursts

and she sees the fire

that her grandmother’s house

had no strength to withstand

that melted them both,

all it left was the warped, mangled wallpaper

“Sorry for your loss”s become each bubble in the paint,

and as she walks to the coffin up front

her skin gives up to the voices

she melts and burns, and flames blow over her in sobs

She lets the fiery, crackling voices release her,

so her tears can drown out the

burning of her grandmother’s house.