“By Lamplight”

intermittent inheritance
criss-crossed light lines
born on palms and wrists,
mapping lives lost and lived
on nights as dim as this.



It feels like the opposite of quiet bones.
Burning, sparking, bristling
with potential – stretching
out a hand and holding
a hundred worlds at a time.

It’s the adrenaline of opposites,
of terror and comfort and loathing
and love, all roiling under your skin.

It’s the opposite of numbness,
a thousand furious threads
touching words and tugging
at your skin, pulling, like string
telephones, then falling
limp, loose, silent, dead and
withered on the line.