Paper Tower III

12 March 2026

https://poems.culturing.net/2026/03/12/paper-tower-iii/

They continued past the village,
and into a wild garden.
She said, "There are no buildings here.
You should find me some flowers."
Suddenly his palms were sweaty.
He nearly dropped the torch.
She said, "We will lie down here,
but you must be ready to die."
He said, "I will not die.
I will live for you."

She caught fire.
He began to build a hearth.

But she would not help him build it.
She stood enamored by her burning reflection
in a pool of water. He pushed her in,
out of anger but also for her own good.
Her fire went out. She rose, soggy.
They stared at each other, saddened, not sure
what had happened. They stared for a long time.

But he kept the torch burning, and touched her with it
to light her again, more softly, a controlled burn.
She did not like it at first, but it grew on her,
keeping her warm, even where the first fire had scarred.
They worked on the hearth together. It took a long time,
but this new fire was finally admirable. It made a good home.