Zokora M.

I dreamed of a theatre burning.

A shaved blonde head yelling curses and

     doing nothing.

I waltz across the shifting stage to help.

Cheers erupt and others join me.

The boy’s screams become quieter.

He becomes sweeter

Like a flower slowly blooming.

Light flows as I travel back.

The beginning and ending: both a flash of light.

And I promise to return once more.