Opening the Heart (So That the Flame Streams Forth)


In this place there was worked a pact
its disturbance of earth scorched. Worth
the torture endured, here where no
verdant forest ever flourished,

floored with ashen purge covering
over a door, I let fall that
last of my dignity grace left
intact. By silence encouraged,

onto decoy, into its trap,
beyond notice, no witness, down
past ground edged black envy attracts,
no longer covetous or so

          attached was my grip as I trashed
          that burdensome sack hurt swallowed.


Hollowing open a wound ribbed
around its thrust with promises
only those chests this cavernous
enough to devour misplaced trust,

into its trap deposited
was my last breath wasted as gift
for some cult of loss in which I
had long lost all feigned interest.

Dancing across its top twisted
flame knotting along blown leaves my
song hurried from calm. Fire which licked
with heat from the place cowardice

          which might have betrayed this grave filled
          with what makes one’s heart powerless.