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I am your fire dancer your goddess of burning hair your monkey gatherer bird rescuer rider of the Great River weaver of lianas drinker of viper venom keeper of the rainforests and of the margins of the rainforests and of the great drowned forests that sleep beneath the flaming trees I can call down the stars that slither across your skies move the five panthers that hold up the
earth summon the six jaguars that eat the moon I can show you visions of your own destruction as easily as I can draw breath come closer hear my prophecy: She who you trample will trample you She who you burn will burn you She who you poison will rise resurrected and outlast you the ice will return the pure air will return but you will not return I warn you: stop it
stop it now full stop.
In This Burning World on the long
road down the hill the cobblestones tip us like drunken
sailors under a sky smeared with volcanic dust at the bottom lies a sea clear and pale as the skin beneath our arms in this burning world where we can never stop to rest you reach out and brush the tips of my fingers our parched skin flakes off in tiny bits and floats up toward the sun riding the great cone-shaped thermals of this slowly turning planet we are two birds gliding through an empty sky lost
uncertain filled with unreasonable joy
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