Combustion
I burn easily, he said.
Even in a flood.
It’s always the eyes
that go first. Then the hair
on the back of my hands.
And before you know it,
I’m kneeling at the side
of some hotel bed,
a pair of brown legs
around my head. And
everything, everything
around and inside
and after me
is melting.
—Kobus Moolman (The mountain behind the house)