Because of its distinctive green flame, amorphous boron is used in pyrotechnic flares.

The air smells of burnt popcorn
And she’s taking bites out of
A giant bloom of fairy floss.
Hurry. She’s tugging at his arm,

She is quite short, although not really
Petite. He can sometimes forget
That she is not that tall; she seems
So big to him. When she loves him

She seems enormous and he feels
Gargantuan. She’s dragging him now.
Past the Ferris wheel, spinning its soft dreams,
Through the stalls hawking their wares,

Out to the open field where a lazy crowd
Is amassing, for no particular seeming reason.
She wants to be up by the barrier.
He thinks he sees her elbow out a child.

C’mon, it’s starting. She finishes the fairy floss
And licks her fingers, a small, anticipating
Mess of movement and excitement. The thunder
Claps! The sky explodes! She laughs – he didn’t even know:

She loves fireworks.

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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