a fireball grew,
heat singed facial hair.
before my eyes melted
i wondered if the
colors in a fire
ever got jealous,
that would at least
explain why they jump over
each other in competition.
i don’t know what happened afterwards,
i would imagine
news of the event went international,
i would imagine
people would call my chard cell phone
to hear me breathe.
would the phone ring?
would a police officer or a firefighter answer it?
and if they did
would they tell the caller
my body was scattered and mixed
with fifty other passengers?
i would let it ring.
they would leave a voicemail
and wait to see if i call back
or hear news of my fate
through the various networks of people who claim to know me.
strangers would watch the news
flipping through five news channels
just to hear the same information.
journalist would compare it to past events
mixed with sound bites of the president
informing the country of his resolve.
i’m surprised
how the flame hypnotized me,
fire is beautiful when it doesn’t scorch skin.
i flamed on
wondering if someone would shoot me.
a mercy kill
just wishful thinking,
at that moment i stopped panicking
and remembered what plato said.
