at sunrise made of night
the two one light we find or rather feel
self-laceration is not of you
nor mechanical injuries nor blunt force
sharp force firearms not you nor self-worship for
what is you contains nuclear star fields without abrasion
smooth as the neck of a dove the ember of the long kiss
your lips breathing life into us like fire
she and i locked to each other and unlocking
for contempt is bloody and light makes blood more visible
though not less raw
when i see my brother’s body headless in the dirt
i am only a small flare of light 
under the door between this world and the next before the light goes out 

                                                                 iii.7 

Shann Ray | Atomic Theory 432, iii.8
Contents | Mudlark No. 64 (2018)