The Hot Place

My teacher
Patiently awaiting
A golden dawn

Treading footprints
Down scummy halls
Too late

But you still bite
Giving the crust
Of the minute men

Nitric acid
Blackest ink
Wet paper
Arabic sway

You know how to
Do it right
I can’t even show
My face

I think you prefer that
Way of the wind

Pull the print