In the Same Vein

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.