Burnt Fingers

this is the hardest angle

to see

holding it without becoming it

appreciating anger

understanding where it resides

muting its reflection

cooling heat

to just singe fingertips

instead of

conflagrating carefully built connections

precision use can break walls

which is of no use

if the city burns

hold it gently

let it go lightly

watch its edges sharpen yours


Ou est la reine noire?

i awoke in the realm of the black queen

her king nearby

at odds but not argument

threes to nines and back

The white queen awoke

sifting through jacks

debating what had happened

did the red one exist?

Did she not?

i slid back up

slipping into the red queen’s rooms

she laughed that they had forgotten her

she laughed that they knew it

shuffling her hearts

until the rooks fell and the knights flew

and breaking glass sounded like

the tinkling joy of all three

to nines

then back again