immolation

sings in forest fires --
if we were trees, we would be
dead, we would be in love
with moss and squirrels.
take me and drag me and
build me a canopy up above,
cut me down a branch
to use for my protection.
this is a new environment.
the trees are still living; we
are not learning how to die.
our backs are straight, our smiles
curved, each tooth a perfect moon.
this is hundreds of years old,
this ecosystem, this green,
and we are but babies, new
to this world, naïve, soft
in head and softer in heart.
our lust a false belief, trust
in nature all we have left;
we light a match and wait
for the sun to show her skin.