Her finger had already
pushed the red button
beneath the raised letters
on the gray steel panel: APOCALYPSE.
The button had been glowing, warm
to her touch, and her finger
traced slow circles on it
before she said out loud
to herself, “Let’s play.”
She had always been
such a good little girl.
The button gave no resistance.
She felt no regret.
The destruction wasn’t real yet.
In fact, right here
in this sweet remove, before
the crumbling, before
the mess, before the weeping,
the loss, the ash, my god
she had never felt so very alive.