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