Bonfire said,                                     spit, gargle,

light.                 Light.                 But the body is

the kind of writhing                   that might buck

against what would burn it.                 A refusal

made nude                under a matchhead, poised

to devour. How its skin                   like the rind

always tastes                                the most bitter.

How when we bite                      to taste its rage

we are always startled to swallow—          more.





blckfsh / bird enthusiast / benign boy / fisayo adeyeye has works published in souvenir lit journal / nailed magazine / the birds we piled loosely / and he is the author of cradles (nomadic press 2017). find his website here: www.fisayoadeyeye.com