The daughter of Zephyrus blows gently,
warmth from her breath wetting the ocean air
to quell the lightning that so beautifully frames
her cumulonimbus locks and cirrus wisps and
two lovers running along a beach:
The daughter of the unnamed god (he of the east wind),
and her own brother, race for safety, hands clasped,
ocean, immersion, a simple idea looming before them
(to gods, all lands and times are metaphor).
The moon’s mirrored gaze reflects none of this heresy,
only the sudden clouds and sparks of daggered lightning,
now fading for lack of proper substrate.
All three, then, under the waves, nervous giggling
and sharp shushing, stare at that rarest of prizes:
A name, stolen once (by law)–and now by love
and hope for things to come; for the unnamed god
will soon have a grandson, his name reborn.
Kaolin Imago Fire is a conglomeration of ideas, side projects, and experiments. Outside of his primary occupation, he also develops computer games, edits Greatest Uncommon Denominator Magazine, and very occasionally teaches computer science. He has had poetry published in Strange Horizons, Every Day Weirdness, and Bull Spec, among others.