I’m reading Ovid in my Hemingway socks,

A classic and I’m a sellout,

Books bought locally

But not my local – not yet.

Icarus falls from the sky

And my plane will soar safe –

So life goes.

I’m a little Icarus and a lot of Hem,

Big battles with my big ego

And small sentences with small words.

I’ve never found a sun I didn’t want to fly at –

A flaming bird tattooed on my chest –

Because nobody tells me what is too hot to touch.

I am the fire.