Some go willingly;
The fire in which his body burns
Lights into her thin negligee, her hair—
One way or another: She comes back
From that pyre as ash.
Sati, that nonstop goddess, ignited herself
Like a lighter thumbed open—
Flame like a slit throat—
Gilt-black: the copper-red avenger.
He wants to make love to you one last time.
A widow I know made herself into a nerve
Kite: up, up in smoke. Because he'd blown
Himself away and left her with a fury at him
She could never express. O she burns, burns
In her own bones. What good are the earth's
Rickety steps hacked into the hillside? Ascend,
Ascend, little sheep. He loves me; he loves me not.
I try to stay a step ahead of the flames,
But he's so fast like his hand across my face,
On my throat—the hem catches, then the stitching.
His profile floats up from the raised platform—
One gold ring, two: molten. I had that same dream,
Sati. But now, I swear, I will not go willingly.
TODAY IN SLATE
Meet the New Bosses
How the Republicans would run the Senate.
The Government Is Giving Millions of Dollars in Electric-Car Subsidies to the Wrong Drivers
Scotland Is Just the Beginning. Expect More Political Earthquakes in Europe.
Cheez-Its. Ritz. Triscuits.
Why all cracker names sound alike.
Friends Was the Last Purely Pleasurable Sitcom
This Whimsical Driverless Car Imagines Transportation in 2059
- Protesters Take to the Streets to Sound Alarm on Climate Change in New York, Across the World
- Knife-Carrying White House Jumper is Vet who Feared “Atmosphere Was Collapsing”
- North Korea: American Sentenced to Hard Labor Wanted to Become “Second Snowden”
- Almost One in Four Americans Support Idea of Splitting From the Union
Did America Get Fat by Drinking Diet Soda?
A high-profile study points the finger at artificial sweeteners.