two rubber soles

ashes tryna burn through cotton
pierced a perfect circle in her canvas shoes
sketched a portrait of a hidden hemisphere
glossed 180 degrees behind his eyes
it smolders there longer than it should
peach fuzz sizzles on a hot grill
seared tinge of dna syrup sweeter
than lingering in bed on winter mornings

there’s skin underneath more than silver
& bones cauldron of flowers simmering
when she blushes she blooms sighs out
a house on fire drowns within itself
tried to save her once but the pain feels better
watching embers melt oil landscapes off walls
tried to save her twice but joint her instead
evidence in feeling crossed legs in bed

ashes burned through cotton:
two rubber soles
remain

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