If
Sift through wreckage
Burnt glass
Smoking blood
Fire exposes
Found in huddled
Composure
Lost but found but wanting
Lifted up
Soaring in flight
Crashed down to ungentle earth
Splayed pieces
Cannot stand
But at least the fire is out
Or truth its moved inward
Igniting desire
Pouring out from fingertips
From tongue
From eyes
Warm yourself but
Always pull away
Afraid of burning up
Kindle instead and ignite
Burst glory
Or lost
In delirium
In seconds between flight
And the fading
The sound of breaking glass