You And I Are Disappearing ~Bjorn Hakansson
--Yusef Komunyakaa 

The cry I bring down from the hills
belongs to a girl still burning
inside my head. At daybreak 

she burns like a piece of paper. 

She burns like foxfire
in a thigh-shaped valley.
A skirt of flames
dances around her
at dusk. 

We stand with our hands 

hanging at our sides,
while she burns  

like a sack of dry ice. 

She burns like oil on water.
She burns like a cattail torch
dipped in gasoline.
She glows like the fat tip
of a banker's cigar, 

silent as quicksilver. 

A tiger under a rainbow
....at nightfall.
She burns like a shot glass of vodka.
She burns like a field of poppies
at the edge of a rain forest.
She rises like dragonsmoke
....to my nostrils.
She burns like a burning bush
driven by a godawful wind.