A solemn inferno is crafted, and not shortly after
My bones are chapped, my blood shaking, my organs cracking;
Have I got it wrong? I laugh.
I follow the path of the pointed droppings from the trees
The crunch at my feet, how cliché! I hesitate.
The chill slips away in the night, and the fire
Wraps around our hands – like gloves – a perfect fit.
Life is too grim to live without a flame
I never want to face a season without this.
I have seen the moon dance and decline;
Seen it
Finish its routine.
I applaud.
Start again.
Again, again, again,
Huddled around my ball of light, bonding;
Oversharing. I cry.
When I was still able to count my age on my fingers,
This sun could never come undone;
I never imagined her ******* her soul for me,
slowly, like a neatly wrapped present on Christmas morning;
I never imagined learning how to burn my memories.
I can finally let you go.
Your kisses never showed me this admiration
But I wish you well. I sigh.
I will see you again, in the candlelight –
Only an imitation of the evenings
where the fireflies would tuck me into bed
and the stars would tell me a story.
Goodnight, good riddance. I lie.
