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.