Asphyxiate

Photo by Олег Жилко (Unsplash)

So just one grain of dust, one catalyst,
can spark this condensate, this change of form
that stifles each of us. I sense a shift
from hope to sorrow; lightning in the sky
now fades to charcoal. Drink up — wine, not water
In this, I fear, you leave us with no choice.

Excerpt from “Fire” (working title) from the Sestina Synthetica project on Chalkboard.