Daily Archives: April 4, 2019

Burning Hands

I’ve never been to Burning Man. I hear it’s hot — desert
dust & sky both wide open as if they can’t bear to touch;
folk knotted into clothes because they can’t bear to wear much;
even clouds shred into wisps that barely cover, & flirt
with the dirt of a far off horizon. Hot. & then cold.
Either way, it’s intense, & that’s before adding in fires
& lovers / towers of flowers / stegosauri & spires /
the glowing teeth / awkward bots / glare / creatures / cheers raw & bold /
the bear / the bent / the beasts / the burning / the burn. My hands hurt
too much to touch you, too much to touch myself; skin gone thin,
gone rough & harsh, skin that throbs & pulses while dancers spin.
Sometimes my hands throb like this after drum circles, alert
& alive, remembering the beat. Today, they raise prayers,
lifting up, a flaming statue of palms cradling air.

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