Sometimes you meet people that you grow to love.
And then other times, you cross paths with some
that just click with your senses;
heighten your emotions so high everything else seems to disappear.

But beware of those who just snap into place
for they will inject their venom
into the depths of your heart
and leave skid marks on the surface.

They will plaster your atriums with Picasso murals
and sheet music from Bach
only to cover the walls with kerosene
and burn it to the ground for the sole soul-wrenching sake of "art".

And that's okay, you will live on.

But there will still be scars at the entrance sites from every drop of poison.
There will still be scars from the train tracks he carved
from the bat of his eyes and the pucker of his lips.
There will still be scars from the blaze

because when fire burns it does so
passionately
carelessly
wonderfully with furiosity  

And you will find pieces of clay under different piles of ash;
You will find treble clefs and fermatas
hidden under every ember that was left to die.
You will still find beauty in the destruction.

And maybe it's still okay to admire the ruins,
even just for a little while.

gd