Bonfire Heart

by Kelsey Sucena

Before I go
you’ll set your bonfire heart ablaze,
scatter the cinders of time’s long passage
across the stars across the sky.
Let them float like willow wisps
and gather into trails like source code,
little ones and little zeros scrolling their message
upon the face of the cosmos,
“this way, home.”

You’ll fan the flames and dust of ashes,
brush the smoke in my direction
fill our lungs with cedar bark speckles
to taste the maple of firewood
to taste the sweet breath of life.

I’ll look up and say “I’m sorry
that my mind wanders like that,
sorry you have to burn to get it back.”

“You don’t have to be.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to be.”