dust settles
into every crack of her fingers
her palms
caked with Ash
what fires
has she embraced?
what the flame
had burned
her hands
shall cradle
she holds
now extinct coal
to her ear
trying to remember
the crackle
of her old friend
flame
YOU ARE READING
digital dance - poetry
Poetryyoure not alone in the way you scream at a god who hears but does not understand or care to learn
