The wet sand and sweat that mortared
our hands since dusk scorched
and mouldered to dust. Still
sunlight can’t unlight
a candle once lit— it
can only conceal
it— can steal thunder, not
flame. An untamed ember
glints in your eyes, as I watch you
watching the sun rise. You won’t
look me in mine — you won’t
let me let you immolate me.
Published online September 19, 2017
Andrew Eastman holds a 4-year BA in Creative Writing from the University of Winnipeg. His poetry has been featured in the Winnipeg Free Press, Juice, rip/torn, and CV2. While poetry is his primary art form, Andrew is also the co-founder of Synonym Art Consultation, a local arts initiative in Winnipeg that is committed to providing unique and meaningful opportunities to artists in all mediums.
