this is how

this is how things end then –
with dancing, and a ruined heart

unexpected and yet somehow not,
since this is you afterall

this is an emptiness that cannot
redeem itself with waiting

but I’ve grown used to thorns,
have almost forgotten the fireflies,

have known always that the flames
could be turned to strike me

and this is the way it goes-
trusting an incautious other with fire

and praying for something other than ash

© Sarah Whiteley

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