Burn the House by Jessica Walker

Morning air caresses her skin,
Brushes the shoulders,
Tugs the curls.
Breezy twin kisses become flint stones
That slide and strike, slowly at first.

Quicker, harsher now
To build the barrier she never had before
But that grew—step by step,
Flicker by flicker—until she couldn’t see herself
Anymore.

A heartbeat there, a gasp here.
Bodily functions blending together
To breath fire into life.
His hands forming a necklace,
An ornament that only succeeds in cutting
Oxygen.

Tighten the muscles so you
Won’t break.
Fuel the pain so it
Won’t bite.
Torture the body so the heart
Stays chaste.

Her fire is catching.
It might raze the house,
But the charred remains
Will be pure.

If it doesn’t all burn.

 

 

 

Jessica WalkerJessica Walker is a writer who uses literary and genre fiction to make sense of the world. She has been published in Eye Contact and Rune. Her best work happens when she has a cup of coffee in hand.

Jessica Walker
… is a contributing guest author for Germ, which means the following criteria (and then some) have been met: possessor of a fresh, original voice; creator of fresh, original content; genius storyteller; superlative speller; fantastic dancer; expert joke teller; handy with a toolbox; brilliant at parties; loves us as much as we love them.

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