To disappear, light a match. From the flames
disperse ashes out to the campfire grounds, then play
the guitar until the strings break and bleed into your skin.
But if music still sounds, drain the wax from your ears—
You’re delusional; melt into water and distinguish the flames.
Form castles in the ashes and cover them with glitter. To flee
the watching eyes, hide inside the logs
and fold your hands along the curves, quiet
and unstrung in a bed of dirt and dried lilacs. Be sure to fall
asleep to the owls; their hoots are unforgiving
and unmoving. As a way to call this home, line
your body in pastels and lace, love the ashes beneath
your feet that call to you. Go unstrung
into the night. Silence the cries that follow.