The Crown Fire
The fire from my thighs burnt down the dense
foliage from my eyes. Now those who look
are singed with the frenzied curse, tangled
in the forest ‘til they are
wrapped in weeds and poison ivy.
First the blue-eyed
boy tried to douse the smolders, then the girl
with the hazel eyes tried to till the dying soil.
But here the ivy and flames burn, immolating whoever
dares to bloom. My vines have developed a taste for flesh and blood.
About the author: Lauren Kania is currently a junior at Eckerd College studying Literature and Creative Writing with a focus in poetry. Her inspiration comes from her travels across the globe, her experiences as a woman in an ever-present patriarchal society, and her undying love for her dog. She has had work published in literary magazines such as "The Voice of Eve" and "The Essence," and hopes to continue to develop her voice through the written word.
