Poem (Inspired by The Nightmare by Martin Puryear)

In flame we were born…
By Jordan Bates

Rivers
run red. Shrapnel
embeds,

crucifying the skies
with indifferent
knives,

staining my
last breath the color
of ignorance.

A paradoxical recipe:

One part
lifeblood; one part
poison.

In flame we must be destroyed.

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