self portrait as caution tape 

lately i can feel myself becoming 
more flammable. all fires 
lean towards me
like how sunflowers lean towards 
our great burning dinner plate sun.
someone posted a meme yesterday that said
when sunflowers don't have the sun
they lean to face each other
& i wondered how long
a sunflower can live without light.
on the sidewalk last night
i turned to face my stranger
& i drank the beams out of her face
until she was all seed & no petal.
i have been vampuric
with brightness. the dark rushes 
at me from all directions.
shadows empty themselves 
in to my throat.
taste of black licorice &
dark chocolate. 
with a flame i found in a parking lot
i touch the foreheads of candles.
their wicks clench like thin fists.
i have day dreams of giving birh 
in an alley. the baby 
a roll of soot. the candles kiss it
until the infant blooms into a great
purple rose. i am the mother
of all my bruises. i have raised
eggplants by only the selfishness 
of the moon. i should avoid
fire, i know i should.
i should avoid rubbing alcohol 
& other flammable substances
but these days everything is made
of possible ignition.
i am a plastic god. 
i am a gasoline pump's mouth. 
the worst part 
is knowing the fire won't come.
i hold my breath
& curl up on the floor.
i am a crow-bar. i am a bottle openner.
i am to be broken 
in case of emergency.
i try to count beautiful things
to stay alive. i turn to face
other sunflowers & 
feed off their flickering.
i say hold still
& i use my thumb to 
block out the sun.