The wind carries embers,
whispers charred secrets,
and the tree bends—not from age,
but from a scream that’s always been there.
Do you hear it now?
A hollow cry in the brittle leaves,
a crack in the marrow of the bark,
the language of wildfire—
cruel, ancient, endless.

Once,
her roots were drunk on fog,
her branches heavy with sunlit mornings.
Now,
the air tastes of smoke,
ash settles in her veins,
her shadow flickers,
a ghost against an orange sky.

They say the fire speaks—
greedy, ravenous.
But the tree,
the Cali tree,
screams instead.
Screams for her sisters who turned to smoke,
screams for the nests that fell as sparks,
screams for the soil, now burned and bare,
too tired to cradle new life.

Once,
flames were a dance:
brief, beautiful,
a way to start anew.
But now they are monsters,
growing hungrier,
louder,
every year.

The scream spirals into the valleys,
up the hills,
over the rooftops.
It cracks open the silence of dry creek beds,
splits the night sky,
and still, we pretend we do not hear.

She leans toward the wind and wails:
“Do you know why?”

The answer is in the sparks of powerlines,
the parched rivers,
the forests gone brittle with thirst.
It is in the blackened skeletons of redwoods,
the sunsets stained with sorrow.

One day,
her scream will fade—
too quiet to hear,
too heavy to carry.
But for now,
she stands in the ash,
her roots smoldering,
her branches trembling.

And I listen.

I will not lie on my deathbed
haunted by the ghosts
of dreams I left unborn,
of words swallowed
like ash and regret.

The voice in my head
a relentless whisper,
an ember refusing to fade:
Go forward,
Go further,
Or burn alive in the silence.

They call my sky too wide,
my dreams reckless,
as if their fears could cage
my endless horizon.

I burn hot like fire
a fury ignited
by the smallness
of their projections,
the cowardice
of chosen comforts,
a daily surrender
to empty routines.

I rage against shrinking,
against the numbness
of a life untested.
Let them choose ease;
I will chase obsession,
run wild into uncertainty,
and carry my dreams
like flames
into the dark.

Those words you spoke,
Solemn and soft,
Caressed my supple heart,
And ignited it into desire.

I felt your touch peer through the cracks.
Your love whisper through the gaps.
I saw your eyes shimmer in the shadow.
Your warmth glimmer in the cold.

I came running to that door —
The one you opened just for me.
All alone with your lingering touch,
Held by the softness of my reverie.

And now my love burns fiercely.
Setting fire to that solemn door.
The frame splinters my tender hands,
Bleeding now — for my own flesh and bone.

Umbră a Nopții, te arată,
Ca un vis ce-i rupt din Rai,
Ce-n lumină ești scăldată,
Mă chemai cu dulce grai.

Mă-mbăt de-a ta ființă vie,
De râsul tău cu gust amar,
Ești dorul ce nu vrea să fie,
Și visul stins ce-aprinde jar.

Pășeai încet, cu glezna fină,
Cu trupul tău sculptat în foc,
Privirea ta, o vină plină
Ce arde gândul, pas cu loc.

Și-n urma ta, tăcerea plânge,
Sub pași de vis, sub stinsul dor,
Se frânge clipa, gându-nvinge,
Rămân doar umbre care mor.

Rămâi, icoană neuitată,
Din nopți cu lună și parfum,
O flacără nemângâiată,
Ce arde-n mine negru scrum.

fire 4.22.25 (10:37 am)
you were always fearless enough to get burned
brave enough to walk through the fire

but now i feel you left me
because i could not burn the way you did
didn’t light up like a star

you must have been born on the moon
because you glowed under the night sky

i remember you walking away
you said
i love you
did you?
did you mean it,
but not enough?
or was it all a lie?

now the cold settles around my bones
and i regret not following you
into the fire

🔥 Que te llama

No es tu voz —
es la forma en que tu silencio me toca.
No son tus manos —
es el espacio entre ellas,
esperando mi piel.

Me llamas
sin palabras,
como un incendio llama al oxígeno,
como el abismo llama al salto.

Hay algo en ti
que no pide.
Solo toma.

Una mirada,
y ya no tengo camino de regreso.
Un susurro,
y todo mi cuerpo obedece.

No eres mujer.
Eres deseo con nombre.
Eres noche que se arrastra por mi espalda
hasta que gimo sin tocarme.

Que te llama…
no es pregunta.
Es orden.
Y yo la cumplo,
porque no hay fe más pura
que arder por quien arde contigo.

a glimmer to a glow
then only embers
to remind us
of a fire that once
raged

a thousand extras
for a cast of one
and I among them

world shrunk to four walls
an armchair and tv set
have you seen mum
seven years gone
waiting