i wish i was a shooting star

I want to write into my skin
every lash that defines me
the long thin stripes that sink through
tough skin to the current beneath
pulsing writhing living beneath this skin
I want to combust into a black flame
the one that surges and dies within me
burning without consuming
burning without life
tiger’s stripes of daemon’s claws
a twisting struggling being trying to explode
to rip off cellophane skin and breathe
and I believe in shooting stars
that as we fall and die
we can light the sky