Boilermaker

image

She plays with fire
the way I play in ink.
Her blood is iron
and she knows the
heat of the forge–
it rages in her bones.
She is a poem,
written on I-beams,
a dozen stories high–
a rare breed, wolf
and metal-witch–
and I struggle
to find the words,
to describe her
as she burns.

—–

AUDIO FILE:

Listen to Boilermaker —

Advertisements