Masochistic Icarus | Emma Seager


The kiss was nothing that hadn’t been felt before:

A kiss on the cheek of the sun, lips cracking, skin blistering,

As she neared her, neared her, til the sun was nosing at her ear;

And she smelled the white hair on her lobes ignite,

And hissed as the hair on her head set alight.

She took the sun’s lobe into her mouth,

And felt her teeth melt, slid her tongue against the shell,

But missed the harsh scrape against white

As it made to curl out of her mouth.

She wept for the loss of her teeth - stumps in a forest, kindled down.

The sun stroked over the back of her neck,

Tiptoeing over boils her fingers had made;

She took her into her arms - the girl was ash in her lap.