You And I Are Disappearing ~Bjorn Hakansson
--Yusef Komunyakaa 
The cry I bring down from the hills
belongs to a girl still burning
inside my head. At daybreak 
she burns like a piece of paper. 
She burns like foxfire
in a thigh-shaped valley.
A skirt of flames
dances around her
at dusk. 
We stand with our hands 
hanging at our sides,
while she burns  
like a sack of dry ice. 
She burns like oil on water.
She burns like a cattail torch
dipped in gasoline.
She glows like the fat tip
of a banker's cigar, 
silent as quicksilver. 
A tiger under a rainbow
....at nightfall.
She burns like a shot glass of vodka.
She burns like a field of poppies
at the edge of a rain forest.
She rises like dragonsmoke
....to my nostrils.
She burns like a burning bush
driven by a godawful wind.

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