The Last Demon

to exorcise
The final remnant of my regrets
is an ember that
I never quite managed to stamp out.

So it sizzles
and something burns until
smoke reaches my nose.
I cry
because it smells like your blankets
but I am on
a bed of coals,
not in the arms of anyone.

In this moment, I curse
the day I realized
the identical fiery
sparks in our eyes.