Red fire, consuming my oxygen and my thoughts. And the tones of your voice like booming thunder filling my ears with a ringing that I could hear even after you left me.
You entered amidst a black sea of other people.
The room was dark, shrouded in black lace and prayers. But somehow you appeared to me clearer and brighter than any disco ball or compact fluorescent could ever manage.
The soot soon smothered us all.
The flames licking bright new brick and threatening to swallow us piece by piece taking with it our pressboard furniture, just so that the interior matched our skin - covered in shining, charcoal burns.
I couldn't believe that it took fireworks.
Red fire, of my creation consuming every part of you. And as if the spectacle wasn't enough the first time, an encore seemed fitting, doused in gasoline.