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“I can hold on”
she says
and
holds the light high above her head.
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The flash
The ignition of the flame
takes me back
to the day
we ended her life
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or merely ruined it.
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It has taken me years to feel something.
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It has taken this.
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Now the flash recedes
and she is visible
beyond the burning paper
clutched between her metal fingers.
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Two hours before sunrise.
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I wonder how they would feel, how angry they would get, if they knew what we did in here. If they knew that while they slept, the architect of their civilization’s collapse snuck into the perimeter of their village to undress and attempt to fuck one of their own, night after night. There is very little chance of them understanding and an even smaller chance of them accepting it.
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And yet
we keep doing it
going deeper
and
deeper
and
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Clearly not much has changed. These are demonstrations of change. Leaps of faith and displays of courage. I can be weak around her
if she can show me what I have turned her into.
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It isn’t happening
or it hasn’t happened yet
though it is close
very close
to finally hitting me.
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She is waking me up
and i love the feeling
more than anything
i
love
what she does for me
though no matter how far we get
It won’t end well.
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We don’t talk about it
the disconnect
between the man she trusts now and the man who forced her into a glass tube and gleefully pulled a switch
that would have turned her into a monster
if her friends hadn’t saved her
and everything hadn’t exploded
and her friends hadn’t carried her away
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But
maybe it was for the best
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or maybe she places all of the blame on my
Uncle.
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The flames curl closer
to the steel
Unstoppable
unless
she stops it
and she won’t stop it
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It doesn’t hurt her.
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Yet.
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My hands wrap around her cold hips
and bring her forward
her stomach touching my closed lips
her fur keeping me warm
as she lets go of the fire
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“Snively…”
Her hand touches my head
pulls me even closer
the residual heat burning
my flesh
but
surprisingly
I don’t mind
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I don’t know who I am,
when you aren’t around.
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Can’t say it.
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Her cold metal flesh
resists
a tighter grip
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Under it
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she is still
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only a child
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and halfway to the floor
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there is nothing left to burn
and
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it goes dark.