fire

Fire walked in – looked him in the eyes.

He said “You can trust me – it’s you I see. You’re all I see”
The fire had said.

But he turned away,
Then felt as he was drawn back,
An impassioned, fiery hand on his shoulder.

“No” he said. “You can’t see me, can’t touch me, I’m in a place –
A place where you can’t reach me, I’m in a place called me”

Fire moved in closer, ran his tongue up his neck, brushed against his lips.
Traced each contour, and whispered in his ear;
“Tonight we will be free; close your eyes – this wont hurt a bit, put your trust in me”

He closed his eyes.

There he swam in a sea of white fire – incandescent – blue and green, throwing a scene; floating on billowing smoke as it rose, and fell. It rose and, he fell.

Submerged – he gave more than he knew he would.
Fire taking more than he knew he could.
More than he should.

He breathed it in. He breathed nothing out.

It was done. And it was over.

Smouldering, all that was left: Ashes of a fire that had been.
Lying there too was he that had once been.
Nothing left to prove that which had just been.

And then…
~
…it started to rain.