No Love Like the Sun by Jeff Bagato

two pale butterflies
curl around each other
trailing electric smoke, sparks 
of fairy light calling 
back to the sun—
                 a message
against the dead world
of trapped fire ganged
into service of a machine
that would kill the sun itself
if it could reach so far
with hands so big—
                   a curse
against hands that break
wood and stone and air
into pieces that cannot be returned
to other shapes,
their use for building
drained to rust and toxic ash
and no longer even fit 
to fuel that sun—a lustful gut
that would wear away
the world for its own delight
to see other things lie
down in shame—
               an old love
not like the sun
which fosters eggs and wind, 
layering even ice and ocean
into many teeming worlds,
each with their own taste
for light, no matter
how obscure, or far away,
or nearly out of heat

A multi-media artist living near Washington, DC, Jeff Bagato produces poetry and prose as well as electronic music and glitch video. Some of his poetry has appeared in Empty Mirror, Futures Trading, In Between Hangovers, Otoliths, Your One Phone Call, and Zoomoozophone Review. His published books include Savage Magic (poetry), And the Trillions (poetry), The Toothpick Fairy (fiction), and Computing Angels (fiction). A blog about his writing and publishing efforts can be found at jeffbagato.com.