poetry: lunch with jenny

i am burning it down she says
while we eat meat and rice
in the afternoon. flames crackle 
between us scorching nearby tables 
and turning sorrys into ash. our 
daughters watch us shoot lasers 
from our eyes while holding 
hands. we laugh at time shedding
worn-out shadows until we sing
our siren call center stage. fire
leaps from our naked tired bodies
to transform old beliefs until 
they break free or bloom or evolve;
anything but stand still. wiggle
it loose until it snaps. forget
how it looks. our mothers didn’t
know but we do. we dare each other
to burn brighter and brighter. we
promise to not look away. hearts
can be soft and still rage. let’s
get together again soon, i say.