Where truth
is a timeless liability
I become the most reliable liar
KindleKid FirePants
dancing through flames licking
these rough calloused heels
healing scorched flesh
in the blistering aftermath
grafting skin
in want of becoming
whole again

Instead
I assume
the form
of firefighter

Disassembling
into recyclable metal
plastic and diffused butane
a personal collection
of Bic lighters
with the lightness of militia man
cleaning his musket rifle

Why trifle with trust
when dishonesty
is so peculiarly
combustible?

Why strike
matchsticks
within the vestibule
when the stench
of methane
odiferously taints
the air?

I should
much prefer
to be pertinently
clear than continuing
the controlled burning
of bridges
until I am left alone
with many rivers
to cross
unable to find
my way over

For I’ve
honestly
not a single lick
of energy
left to invest
in toying
with such
irreversibly
destructive
activity.

In a truism as told of a bear named Smokey,
“Only you can prevent forest fires.”