Amrita Skye Blaine
ON FIRE
she borrowed an arm for a lifetime
attached to a body, of course,
near the end of its tenure
hounded with heat
the wrist a livid bonfire
flames lick and curl inside
coals glow red in the shoulder
white pill for muscles and tissue
red-and-white capsule
for jangling nerves—
they only buff edges
the urge to push pain away
turns it into a thing
she draws it close, yes
lets it be what it is,
precious and tender
a near-and-dear friend
melding titanium and tissue
it’s busy in there
she dives deep under pain
to the primal sensation
the clean tingle of being alive