I am writing a book about fire

I am writing a book about fire
because there are so many types and
I want to know them all:
the thin blue of the Bunsen burner,
orange fist of a struck match,

or a body deep in snow, fevered
by avalanche or white-out –
the ten-day hike across the Andes
after the crash, the black
of guttered fingers.

I load the wheelbarrow with logs,
lull them onto last night’s embers
that my lover sparked from cuttings;
light a candle for our coffee
at the kitchen table. I could write

about how the body starves, the flare
of muscle consuming itself, organs glowing
as they rise like Chinese lanterns
before sinking back to earth.
Or the quiet flame of running

for your life, lap after lap,
of gin gulped from a bottle, enough,
almost, to raze the building.
The mind’s blaze as it rips through words
and parched ideas. Or the day

I found my husband was on Tinder,
the trip of that old fuse, the surge                             
and swift inferno in my chest
burning burning
as I swept further into the wild –

(from my collection 'Things That Fruit in Darkness', forthcoming 2026, published by Vagabond Voices)

Copyright © Sharon Black 2026