As the fires approached the coast
I threw every picture I had of you
on the trail behind me

I knew if I did
The flames would never find me

They would get lost,
as I did in that unavoidable
void-

The mystery
behind your eye

Thinking that if only
they could burn brighter,

more passionately,          

they might illuminate
whatever it is that lies
dormant in that
abyssal
black

They will burn for you. . .

and I will be safe,

Until they realize
that the mystery
was actually

crippling
depression,

and you are
nothing like the pictures



The ocean is at my back. . .                                  

The flames have found me