Hiding

There must have been a fire like this before.

The last fire…

she couldn’t remember it,

couldn’t remember a burn

on each and every side before.

Then again

she had a habit of forgetting the fire

like all the other humans did.

Of hiding it under rocks

and mud

and other things.

Like boyfriends,

then husbands,

then wine.

Hiding the flames worked for a while.

Hiding the flames had always worked.

For a while.