Ash Winter

Ever since I learned how to want, I have vomit black smoke

It pours from my mouth and out my skin, and it turns my teeth to tar

It is choking my home and earth. I’m in love with the taste

The air is no longer as comforting without a hint of carbon

My smoke has filled every crevice. It is the grass, and the rivers, and the bricks with which we build

I was listening to the news today. A man died of carbon monoxide poisoning. He was 43 and had two cars and a house built on a lake - muddy, and shallow. The last taste in his mouth was of iron. First responders found his body 86 hours later, bloated and floating in the water, but the electric company refused to take responsibility for his death and repossessed the remains of his home

There is no life without smoke. It is desire, and right, and filth. We breathe impurity with prejudice

Ever since we learned how to want, we have vomit black smoke. Our walls are stained; wood scorched