Your greatest gift?
When you yell
in my face,
Where’s your fire?!
You mean the fire
that melts shadow, that ignites
the spark of anger,
of transformation.
But then again, perhaps this gift
is greater:
the respectful allowance,
the requirement,
that I light my own way.
So I remain
a torch.
And you see, torches,
they can burn.
But it’s this pain
we’ve come to heal.
And so I burn.
Sometimes torches cauterize; sometimes
they burn houses down.
Houses we hide in. Structures
we no longer need.
