Fire is only hot to the touch so I watch the flames flip around like ladies coming out of water and throwing their hair out of their eyes.
And I watch the colors infuriate the grass beneath, for being so bright and making that green so dull. And I watch the heat that I cannot feel
The temperature only visible mentally
So for a while I pretend it’s cold
Because I can
And for a minute I pretend it’s wet, so if I had stuck my hand inside
I would not burn to black
But become glazed in red water
And maybe it would taste of coconut or something similar
So that if I licked my hand
I’d enjoy it because of my liking of coconut
And while I’m at it
I pretend the entire world is completely different
And my mind is finally at ease
Until I’m called into the tent to sleep and the snore of my friend brings me back to where I am
And what I’m really doing
And how the world really is