Burn, Baby, Burn

Lay me down in the luminal fire
use the same thorn twice in both palms

Lick the salt from cavern walls
and eat the echo humming in my heart

Revelations are born in moments
of great understanding
though first gestated
and bathed in the flames of sorrow

Not by wit alone
nor beauty
nor arcane knowledge
nor street smart common sense
but by collage
and amalgamation

The thin whisp
of imagination
back in the air
like calm before an inferno