I spent my childhood in a cave, outside glowing snow, inside Byzantine paintings,ceiling bats, everything drawn like a breath. When I wanted to leave, I lit myself on fire; it didn’t hurt—I listened to the flames the way an owl listens to air currents; I was ash in the wide sky.Musty bison on cave walls dream vast grasslands, but listen: I was in the cave, and thenI was everywhere.
Copyright © 2019 by Lindsay Remee Ahl.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
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