As living flame consumes a simple fuseOf gunpowder poured carelessly in sand.
But exponentially, like when the newsOf an icon's murder saturates the land.
Warmer though, like coming in from the coldand drinking chocolate, the scalding fluid soaking
its hot path down my throat, into each foldof my stomach lining. Or, how on first smoking,
each alveolus shudders into flower.Or a birth contraction, though much sweeter
but with that same dichotomy of powerand helplessness. The moment when I teeter
but do not topple. No, the second after,just as my heart applauds my luck and poise.
Or my uncontrollable surge of laughterduring solemnities though any noise
draws scathing looks. Let people stare! When bloodmakes up my face with head prickled by shame.
The polar opposite of numb. The floodof lovelust that confounds me at your name. [End Page 15]
Anna M. Evans earned her MFA from Bennington College and is the Editor of the Raintown Review. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in the Harvard Review, Atlanta Review, Rattle, American Arts Quarterly, and 32 Poems. Recipient of a 2011 Fellowship from the MacDowell Artists' Colony, she currently teaches poetry at West Windsor Art Center. Her chapbooks, Swimming and Selected Sonnets, are available from Maverick Duck Press. www.an-namevans.com