I hope my name tastes like ash and burnt coffee in your mouth
Whenever the opportunity arises that you must speak it.
I hope my memory singes the photographs of us in your mind.
I hope you threw my letters into a bonfire in a fit of rage,
Then extinguished it with your salty, bitter tears.
I hope the sound of my voice rushes through your dreams like a wildfire,
Wakes you up in a cold sweat, gasping
For my gentle fingertips against your cheeks.
I hope the arsonist living quietly inside you
Sets fire to your veins and arteries and capillaries
Whenever you see me pass on the street.
I hope we burn for eternity,
An endless flame destined for immortality.