I can hear it popping.
Feel the heat pressing against my fragile fingertips.
Wanting to escape.
Wanting to be free.
The fire crackles:
The wood has been eaten away.
Most of it.
One piece refuses to split in half.
Like lovers, they cling on to each other,
Unaware of the danger engulfing them,
Burning them,
Splitting them apart.
Still, they refuse to let go.