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)