Lawless Letters

Perhaps you suspect A criminal bent. Perhaps you think me Impudent. Perhaps to prison I’ll be sent. It may displease The government. But I assure you That what I meant Was a tiny kind of Monument, In this big world, A little dent, One tiny thing That’s permanent. From existential Discontent, A jab at the Establishment. So, yesterday, down The street I went, And I took part In this event. I’m not exactly Innocent, But please don’t call The President. I promise I had No ill intent When I carved my initials In wet cement.

I don’t normally attend funerals. At least, not fancy ones like this funeral. They make a big ceremony of it when a Duke dies. Not the simple churchyard rites done for the likes of us. I wasn’t invited to this funeral. Yet I felt I must go. Sometimes life’s not so simple. The Duke was a handsome man when he yet lived. And did he ever know it. I wasn’t the first girl he was sweet on and I wasn’t the last. He told me I had eyes like emeralds. Why I listened to all his pretty words, and laughed at his stories, I don’t recall. Maybe it was that fine-looking figure. Maybe because it was as close to emeralds as I was likely to get. When I missed my courses, I told him I was with child. At first I thought he smiled. Then I realized that curled-back lip, which days before had kissed my flesh, held a sneer. “Little fool,” he spat. “You were stupid to let that happen. You’ll pay dearly for it.” Perhaps I had been lucky, but no one had treated me so cruelly in my fourteen years.

If you wanted to set your life on fire, there wasn’t a better combination. Kerosone and a book of matches, classics for a reason. All I needed was to wait for a dry night. Our love affair had started slow. The sparks were there, just a few at first. But once they caught, the flames swelled into the sky and embarrassed the sun. They flared, radiant, nature outdoing itself to create something so lovely. We burned, entwined, not minding if it led to our destruction. But fires do not last forever. The flames ate what they were burning. Inevitably, we faded, shrunk, became unrecognizable. So, you see, this was the only way that it could end. Watching, I feel the heat, like a winter blanket. The smoke smells like campsites, laughter, memories. I hear the crackle as the walls fry. My eyes are dry. A shelter mutates into a furnace. I imagine his face As he sees what I’ve undone. My mind warped in that same way When I learned of his deception. We are ann