Something here pulls me deep.
Deep into the hammer.
Deep into the flame.
Rolled into my makeup.
Casting the buds of the branches of my own arms.
Planishing my own metal skin.
There's soul here. It's poured into every single piece.
it overflows, it fills like rain water
carving itself through me and eventually soaking in to my dry desert roots.
I'm burning red.
I'm sooty black
I am one thousand tiny pings of steel to silver
I am the small hiss of every flame.
It's here, I glow.
It's here, I grow.
Details of the chattery sweet pea.
All to hit the shop sooner than soon.