so you burnt them to smouldering ashes by a fire of your own constitution, snubbed them out in an entrenchment of smoke and cinder
and then asked to be ignited in the flames of a furnace, an unceremonious combustion of carbon particles, reversing roles, you're merely the ash that blackened your lungs
have you learnt nothing from the tales of prometheus?
YOU ARE READING
ETIOLATED
Poetrythe silhouettes your eyelashes construct upon slavic cheekbones #42 in poetry 20/07/18 #40 in poems 16/08/18 #34 in poetic 20/12/18 © charlieisaneatfacade 2018