Categories
Poetry

Galaxyfire

Pale hands beckon like open flame / foxfire on your lips / leads me deeper into your swamp / like folk tales of buried treasure / that I want to make true.

Pale hands beckon like open flame
foxfire on your lips
leads me deeper into your swamp
like folk tales of buried treasure
that I want to make true.

Your eyes cloud over
St. Elmo’s fire on your lips
and its thunder rumbles in my chest.
I count the seconds in between.
Are you moving towards me
or farther away?

Galaxyfire made of one hundred
million embers firefly eyes
abyss in your lips
my god—it’s full of

deep sea creatures
green glowing lures
and I’m sinking—
                         willing.

© 2020 by Josh Pearce

By Josh Pearce

Josh Pearce is a writer from the San Francisco Bay Area with stories and poetry in Analog, Asimov’s, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Cast of Wonders, Clarkesworld, IGMS, and Nature. He currently works as an assistant editor and film reviewer at Locus magazine and lives in the East Bay with his wife and son. You can find his writing at fictionaljosh.com or on Twitter: @fictionaljosh. One time, Ken Jennings signed his chest.