Learning To Love The Bom b

Walking up the stairs one day
I passed my shade who said:
"Come talk with me beside the fire
and help me pass the night away."

So there we talked and watched
our fingers melt to wax
and heard the withered tunes
as air slipped through my ribs.

"Come dance with me", he said,
and so we did with bones
so shadow-thick they kept
a beat that tracked the wind -

and dance skewed on to stumbling step
I sharply snatched with feather arm,
clutching gales, I shattered glass,
stamping feet, I made the house fall out,

the scattered atoms ripping
through my shade, a blast
that banged the door to heaven
a crash that rent the sun.