Fire Hazard
I recognize you from (a time before)
A time
Before death
Unrecalled today
From before
You knew
Fear of flying existed
Something beyond
The rush
Of mechanisms
Beyond your reason
Outside the oval window,
The sky is of
A pink (dream) haze hue
The sun caresses lush clouds,
Its light
Tinting their surface mauve
I’d like to stay here longer.
Far outside,
An electric war
Fought below black curls
I am not afraid
But marveled, maybe.
I think of fire
Lightning strikes the abandoned house
Around the corner,
The sight of a man completely on fire
I am awake
Almost by accident
A silent candle flickers
Threatens to ignite
A coffee table.
Golden light
Drips along the side
Of the curtain
(like liquid gold)
And I can
Almost taste
That pink hue haze
Can almost quietly
Touch you.
Alison Calva (Mexico City, 1995) is a poet, artist and translator. Her poem "Habibi" was published in Revista Fusado and her short story "Martillos al doblar la esquina" was published in Revista Plástico. She endeavors in textile art with embroidered pieces and is currently exploring analogue photography.