amkowalski

Cigarette ash on the torn page of a Keroac
Told us to “Burn Burn Burn”, so we never looked back. 
Fleeing, hearts ablaze like the setting sun
No longer shackled by routine, we were on the run.
In an inferno fueled by Hendrix’s “Fire,”
We incinerated doubt, new love our pyre.
Blacked lungs serenaded flickering streetlights
While the flames of our passion consumed mundane nights.
Kerosene hearts ignited by matchstick kisses
We danced to the beat of the fire’s hisses.
Each touch a spark, yielding to lust
White hot euphoria...we’re bound to combust.