Wild flare, the white heat
burning out, burning

on nothing. My body
has no body now, grows

feral, flings itself
outside its boundaries

like a yard left too long
unattended, like a yard

on fire. All night
I smoke & listen

to the wind's insistent rasp
in the branches outside,

noise like matches spitting
into light. Is this what it takes

to impress you?
Nothing can subsist

on limit only. I know.
But I'm nearer brilliance

than I've ever been,

& fearless now—all skin
& tinder, furious

& crazed
to begging, feeding

blazes. Even
if my voice is ash

before I ever sing.

Juliana Daugherty is pursuing an MFA at the University of Virginia, where she currently serves as the editor of the literary journal Meridian. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in storySouth, the Asheville Poetry Review, and the Midwest Quarterly Review.

Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761