Everything Burns

The devil doesn’t
Hand back manuscripts;
Your urn will never
Cough your ash to life.
Everything burns, child,

Even the stars. Black
Holes burn the hottest,
And wherever skies
Turn dark, you know fires
Are hiding. Why not

Give up worrying
About who will find
What you failed to burn—
Humiliations,
Embarrassing wants,

Incompetent verse,
Despairing diaries?
People never think
What you think people
Are liable to think—

Just leave this alone.
Sooner or later
It will burn with all
The rest of the stars.
Nice night, isn’t it?