Man lit with lit

Burn
those expanding circles
and the edges that you’ll never
see again
where the chance to jump
has faded through life

Burn
for you’ll never amount
to anything
and most of the time
you’ll amount to less

Burn
hotter than the fires
that consume you
so that when they overcome
they do not wish
to burn you so

Burn
water to make it sweat
into your image
so it creates a shadow above you
from you
and
so it can wash away your darkness
as you burn it and you again

Burn
the world
that melts love
in a crucible of hands
and clothes that can stick together
but more often
fall apart
like bread

Burn
me with a diss
that makes me sputter
onto you
if only to cool you off
or perhaps
back on this

Burn
you with yourself
by rubbing your desires
in proportion to their growth
in your flesh
and to the pile of ash
that can bloom
from death

Burn
like a bullet
that is more whole
in the gun
but is free when it is
a bullet
instead of an end
or all of them

Burn
all that can be licked
in a wet flame
that dries
then dissolves
itself in dread

Burn
until there is no more
and all is even
heaps of the same odds
of black
and there will be peace
in the place where nothing
lives
because there will never be peace
in the place where something
lives –
it burns too well