You sit in your room. It’s in flames. Your desk
awash with conflagratory waves
no smoke, just raw heat, heavy light
disintegrating walls. Ceiling gone.
All heat, light, and flame.
The world, now caught up in your
hurricane torrents, fire mountains
lap up oceans, leveling cities
roaring itself to a climax
the sun casting its own shadow.
Like a magician’s flashpaper
galaxies burst in a shiny sheet of sparks
igniting the universe’s canvas in a moment
where no secrets are hidden
from your nib’s alchemy.
Originally published in Songs of Eretz Poetry Review