Sometimes we wake up with bloated tummies.
Heavy and sore from fired coal
tossing and turning
filling our stomachs with hot air
We throw amber coals to others’ windows
The blinds are drawn
We are invisible but no one can ignore our heat
My tummy has been dormant for months
Today it ignites with familiar evil
I’m lining a trail from your window to my tummy with ashes
It’s safe to draw the blinds up now
Amber coals have been crushed to grey ashes.
Big hair Wisdom 