David Mihalyov

  Strike Me Like a Match

I’m ready to ignite. A flash and then a slow
burn, my head scorching. The smell
of sulfur rises and obliterates the world.

Dishwater releases down the drain,
your image in the soapy residue left behind.
I couldn’t keep you from being sad.

Directionless, we wandered the shore
and I pulled fish from the ocean,
lining them on the beach.

How do I help someone
who won’t help herself? It’s been years
since I’ve seen you in that dress.

The dark row of clouds behind the tree line
rise like a bruised-purple mountain range.
I want to be there, climb those peaks.

Though it’s an altered landscape —
a panorama that will shift in minutes —
if I can see it, is it not real?

This scene should be serene.
A field, empty except for the shading tree
where we are trapped,

petrol being poured at the base.
Kiss me with your gasoline mouth,
I’m running out of fuel.

David Mihalyov lives near Lake Ontario in Webster, NY, with his wife, two daughters, and beagle. His poems and short fiction have appeared or are forthcoming in Tar River Poetry, Ocean State Review, Dunes Review, Free State Review, New Plains Review, San Pedro River Review, and other journals. His first poetry collection, A Safe Distance, was published by Main Street Rag Press in 2022.