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I wish he didn’t light fire for ghosts. No one’s there, I said. Don’t matter, he shrugged. I wish he wouldn’t make fire for air no one there. Wish someone could see the flames licking the stone. Red orange yellow black. Hear their crackle laugh. Leaving their mark dark as night. Defecate. Their wretched beauty. No hand to warm. No heart to melt. Just nothing enjoying the death of the embers remembers. Remember when I told you what I told you. That day the fire for no one got lonely and found you. Searched for you, scouring sour roaring floor. When the fire for no one found someone you. Tickle trick peeling feel char so far. It played with you with your hair with your skin with your breath. But No One’s Fire is selfish. It steals. Stole your breath. It talked to you with its gaseous voice ebony voice stole your voice. Stole your breath. No One’s Fire.
Funeral pyre.