'that’s the middle of things…right there’ 

trying to take a snap, a video, a token, a story—

i give up as he pauses, makes eye contact

                          a dozen shells of dough flipped in their metal bassinet slash casket

you see? it’s both birth and death,

                          air moving with him stopping constitutes the gap

—but back to bubbling,

                          facing a new side of the circular hell

my pupils large enough to scare each flame lick into submission,

i continue, away

‘you’ll remember, for a little bit at least’ she consoles

yes yes, in media res