Olive Colon

THE GREAT SUN With the ravenous appetite of a pregnant woman I crave Not kitchen sunshine But the naked sun To lie in blazing rays Turn red, turn brown, turn crisp Till blood boils Eyes pop and sizzle down seared cheeks Heart bursts in a shower of clotting blood Tongue bloats and splits Till skin burns away and flesh shrivels to ash Revealing grinning gapenosed skull And only a fragment of charred bone is left