Matt Davis

chiromancy-final copy

in her palms
i was a fire
dying of thirst

i yelled,
i yelled:

let our old and curious hands
reinvent the matchbook

let our pockets glow with tidy infernos,
our wrists braided with smoke
arrested NOW

let’s raise fists against a half/moon heart
and get sunburned by a half/assed star

let’s punch holes in the pthalo night
and outwit grand charges of battery
“we’re as innocent as the day is long!”
i yelled,
i’d yell.

all charges cleared
when the smoke finally cleared:

my fingers had read her palm backwards:

clearly,
i was the only one
growing younger.

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