The fire is pretty enough.
Flames
Dance
Dazzling
Bright
Whilst I hold you tight
In the bossom
Of my soul
In any old soul
You could lay there and rest;
But not mine.

I
Rock you like a storm rocks the sea
Holding you carefully,
Haphazardly
And you smile wildly now;
Enjoy the ride
Enjoy the fire--

But wary the smoke
That rises and curls;
The black-ash folds
Which create me.
As you breathe me in
Tasting my sin
Hoping to stay--

Be wary the smoke
Which rises and curls
Toward your nostrils and
Into your lungs...

Perhaps you can breathe.
Perhaps not.

And I'll take in yours
Large sighs fill my lungs
With the dangerous fog that pervades you
And now it knows mine
And as we intertwine,
Time:
Leaves us*

And I---
Like a child, but a thousand years old,
Searching stories, yet told,
For some saneness to hold,
I drink in the silver
and wine--