Controlled Burn

The kettle is taking its time on the coil.

I stand over the stove, watching the blue

hiss of the flame, waiting for the boil.

The heat is the only thing that feels true.

I dropped a bill by the burner today.

An 'Urgent' notice, red at the edge.

I watched the fire eat the warning away,

curling it back like a blackened hedge.

The lip of the paper went flaky and dark.

It vanished so fast, a hungry little crawl.

I didn't try to stop the creeping spark;

I just wanted to see the end of it all.