Have you heard? Of the “Widows Fire”? A heat that only the dead can quench Unchecked desire rising forth Inflamed, heart, eyes, soul and pelvis Calling after the lost one Touch me! Touch me! Touch me! Old (and not so old) bodies flooded like adolescents Salty tears and salty climax pouring out of bodies rent by pain and loss. Shame and guilt riding reverse cowgirl like it’s the only position Howls of pain become the keening of ecstasy Ecstatic moans fall away into shuddering

In the quiet spaces between our breaths, where memories linger like soft echoes, we find the roots of our being intertwined with those...