The conflagration of a fervid past
Unites a once or thrice forgotten pair
A casting of the molten lover last
A burning itch to play sardonic heir
How meets an ember of a new romance
To marches of a district uniform
To tribulations of the king of France
And stardust honey which the critics swarm
What limb of mine directs ascending flames
Of course in fact but God has such command
As such in this aesthetic I find shame
For atheism guarantees no man
My memory an exothermic rush
I fear a spark floats near its underbrush
Outfit, art direction, makeup, edit: Seabass Immonen
Photo: Tess Christensen
Outtakes
