rosemary

my feet roam scorched earth, kicking up
the dust of fine-toothed footprints, covered in
ash. the skeletons of skin are bathing in sin,
blowing embers through lungs and
running around like dogs in heat. in the sea
of a thousand dying flames, you never
lost your spark. the memories, thick as smoke,
rose with wings from our fire. and i sit, burning
through blank sheets of paper, peeling back layers
and welcoming the scars.