Poetry: Prometheus in the New Age by Sage Greenwood
Prometheus in the New Age
Sage Greenwood (they/them) is an aspiring writer and editor currently studying fiction, poetry, and publishing at Emerson College. Follow them on Twitter and Instagram
Through powerlines and bedroom window, I see fire. Or maybe
it isn’t a fire, maybe it’s streetlight, but it doesn’t matter. Not when I imagine
cupping flame between my palms. It wouldn’t burn
as it dances on my arms, just twisting,
reaching up. Like an escape or maybe a return. A trip home.
The fire kaleidoscope'd in my hair
like the crystal that had rainbowed my room in the morning
until I let it crack in my hands. Now the flames
are the blood of glass, of keratin and boxed hair dye.
They tear higher. Into the trees and into the Aether.