After The Storm
by Ron Gibson
Yesterday, the lights returned
above you, the heat inside you.
Con Edison takes a bow
for my doing.
Last night, there was no night.
I was the fire nesting between your legs.
I was the hand that made you writhe
serpentine waves. I was the spoken
order that destroyed your shore;
the superstorm that redistributed
grains of you amongst the stars.
*
When these words enter you,
they will swell between your hips.
You will touch them, feel their heat
and remember the flames; remember
the name that brought them to life.
***Ron Gibson, Jr. has previously appeared in Pidgeonholes, Cease,
Cows, Maudlin House, Word Riot, Exquisite Corpse, Spelk Fiction,
Soundzine, etc…, forthcoming at Story and Picture & Ginosko Literary
Journal, been included in various anthologies, and been nominated for
a Pushcart, and is now a regular contributor at Sick Lit Magazine. Ron tweets at: https://twitter.com/SirAbsurd or simply, @sirabsurd ***
Cows, Maudlin House, Word Riot, Exquisite Corpse, Spelk Fiction,
Soundzine, etc…, forthcoming at Story and Picture & Ginosko Literary
Journal, been included in various anthologies, and been nominated for
a Pushcart, and is now a regular contributor at Sick Lit Magazine. Ron tweets at: https://twitter.com/SirAbsurd or simply, @sirabsurd ***
SICK LIT MAGAZINE 
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