Igneous: A poem

lava fire girl
Caragh McErlean/Senior Staff

If I look into the mirror long enough

My skin will turn molten,

And thick red lava will spill from my mouth.

It singes my neck, burns my collars to the bone.

It brands their words into my shoulders and back.

 

My blood turns black, oozes onto the floor,

Mixes with melted skin, cooked muscles.

I watch the warm fat fall off my bones.

My organs are medium rare.

 

I am a solar body, soaked in liquid fire,

For a moment, as hot as the sun.

White hot hands blazing,

Lips like blown glass,

Bright red eyes like a Polaroid picture

 

I blink, and I begin to cool,

Ashy skin smoking like a stubborn cigarette.

Red fades to black, I am burnt, dormant.

I lift a charcoal finger to my mouth and take a bite.

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