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May 2013
I stare mesmerized at the dancing flames
cavorting like cheap ******
now red, now blue,
twisting and turning lasciviously,
each striving for my attention.

Occasional sparks flash and fizz
as each flame tries to o'er leap the next
until, exhausted, they are ****** back
into the charcoal darkness,
turning deep crimson,
hissing and spitting
like a cornered cat and
sinking still further into the blackened remains

Until all that is left
are the dying embers.
The Wicca Man
Written by
The Wicca Man  65/M/UK
(65/M/UK)   
732
   st64
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