& after you wake
you will be different: a god made soft
enough to never hurt you again
held you this close to the world: a myth told
at the end of autumn when your body was
naked with the lights off & all
you could remember was the voice
of someone you forgot—someone
you loved—so you stood there in the dark
until that sound entered your bones: & stayed
like any lost god would: asking for you
to build a fire: you need to go back
to the forest: the loose hanging arms
of everyone there who you
lost as a boy: gather the silent wood
& cut: & know that every fire you make
can only open its mouth when you
want it to live: to live & eat: like any
January, you were born inside
the cutout tongue of winter: you
were a body, craving light: begging
the faceless gods & the fullbellied
monster who gave you flesh—
to be spared.