There stands something
terrible like a woman
or a salamander
pregnant with ache.

I see breath
and an embryonic
twilight.

Those bitches
in a dark barn.
The gravel beneath
my feet
doesn’t seem a foundation

neither does this cold.

There is no sound
and my fingers are relieved
from numbness.

I am sure she can feel
the once ember
and now sun around her,

I know everyone wants it to hurt.
They were scarlet
to begin with.

Those men with
women pinned to
their lapels
want them black
like this night
and blue like this ice.

Soft skin turns
into a stench
rising as a
colossal to the flame.

My vomit seems sweet.
I lied and said
I was sick before.

It rained on the
house where the
animals slept.

It turned into an empty hole;
dark and beautiful where a creation
began

where a fire burns
and dies with ashes
that settle in the snow.

Melissa Hansen