Transitions
Art by João Lira
The blast struck suddenly
Only a glimpse was needed.
It grew from within.
They stood close when it began,
Hand in hand, flesh soft as sand.
The blast went through like sacred fire,
Their bodies bent, limbs spiraled higher.
A brutal silence marked the change
A sacred violence, raw and strange.
Their flesh now flows like thread,
Their old selves were lost, but not quite dead.
