a flame lit at night

on the steps of the riverbank draws

eyes to a clandestine bedtime dance/

it has been a long, feverish summer;

what does suffix warmth do for a body

prefixed with heat/

what does fire do for eyes

counting tall streetlamps as altars. 

the firestarter is brazen;

above it, a patrol car cruises

for curfew violators/ they do not stop

for a bonfire on a stoop they cannot see/

i watch from my ivory tower and 

consider the intentions for faceless

fires at midnight/ i can only guesstimate

what the river’s anger could be like

when the wind carries its deprivation

through the bedroom window,

an arbitrary preoccupation/

perhaps it is safety or a warm meal;

perhaps necessity; perhaps a cloak for

the river’s bile/ perhaps, they mean to

swathe their intentions in darkness and go

unnoticed—not to signal fire an intrusion.

Audrey L. Reyes (she/her) is a digital content specialist and former early childhood educator whose favorite workplace activity is raising hell. Her work appears or is forthcoming in QUINCE magazine, Marías at Sampaguitas,and DEAR. She resides in Manila, Philippines.