love letters for the end of the world: V
red strikes once the landscape
of white smoke and black earth.
a signal fire, a funeral pyre,
a warning for what it's worth.
red strikes once the landscape,
first of hearts-- and then, of streets.
a march against who've marched before
to triumph, then, defeat.
red strikes once the fists and feet,
of those who care to see.
the fire saves and kills us,
we are burning. we are free.