Match-Lit

How do you light a match? Do you even know? It’s such a part of your hand now, it’s not like you control it It flows out of your arm like a cursive explosion Do you pull it toward you or carve it away? I like the hiss of the bullseye warming my face As it tears along the sandpaper strip Too much engine for this tiny ship So it graffitis the runway in grey A charcoal sound, a sulfur, shrapnel kiss Glances my lips, then I taste it No other spell burns like this A small hypnosis The strike and spark to undo the dark Without shaming its beauty— “Wake up!” Oh, this parlor trick We understand and are beloved of its magic We understand and are beloved of its magic In my dream, I saw you match-lit With mischief and laughing, “Watch this!” You slipped inside of a tall cactus Who lovingly shrank down to fit you You looked at me and smiled so wide But all I could say was “Wait...you can do that on the other side?!” You answered with a wave goodbye No other spell burns like this A small hypnosis The strike and spark to undo the dark Without shaming its beauty— “Wake up!” Oh, this parlor trick We understand and are beloved of its magic We understand and are beloved of its magic Do you pull it toward you or carve it away? I like the hiss of the bullseye warming my face