- Andréa Fekete
Poem: Running from Burning Houses by Andrea Fekete
Updated: Jul 26, 2019
Your lover’s angel wings turned overnight
like white apple core exposed to air.
You told yourself next time
you’d sense rot inside pristine
white fruit. You’d smell poison
in the well before cupping water
to your lips.
Next time, you’ll wake
at the first hint of smoke,
well before flames lap dangerous
at the bedroom door. Climb
out the window, bare feet
touching frozen lawn and run
into the night, into snow,
into dark, run anywhere but into another
burning house.
