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i. Kitchen, ii. Garden, iii Bedroom
iii. Bedroom
You are my last
safe harbor.
This sudden silence,
our house burning.
One of us
walks back inside.
Inside,
where breath becomes the last
theft between us.
Our hands makeshift harbor,
touch alight, surface burning.
Our tongues tasting ash, tasting silence.
Lip to wrist, to teeth, to silence.
Doorways collapse. Inside,
knees raw, navel burning,
spit, steam, skin igniting last.
The ruined harbor
holds, shelters us.
What remains of us,
lying blistered in silence.
Exposed clavicle, a once frequent harbor.
Embers eating of the meat inside,
limbs remain, limb and rib bones blacken last.
Our hands rest a space apart, bared knuckles burning —
burning
us
our last
silence
inside
this shattered harbor
No sirens in the empty harbor.
Beneath wet ash, bodies have stopped burning.
Settling from inside,
dirt and dearth of us
staining soil, silence.
This home, our last.
One of us walked back inside, the house, the burning.
The silence, safe. Our last harbor, the hollow of our hands.
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