Silence in Fire

The crackling of escaping embers.

The mesmerising display of unpredictable distraction. Ash scatters out in the air, coating every spectacle of existence. As long as it was fueled, it was presumed to be the threat of rejuvenation and death.

I urge for its skin-deep warmth radiating over every prick of hair that dances across my body in the late sky and the brilliance of the sun’s sister. So big, her curves and craters naked, dripping in sensuality. Her soft glow against the pitch black was entrancing me into the private seconds.

In the darkness, everything comes to light. Its brilliance is mesmerising, drawing me into its silent song. It’s crescendos spits in octaves, diminuendo into the demise of the sacrificial wood. Nature’s gift to me. In return, I offer my body, my life, to sink into the depth of its roots. I provide new, rich nourishment, foreign to its lips, eager against its tongue.

Radiance that seers my vision, yet too captivating to pull my attention away. Dare I lose a second of this spectacle, I would be brought to tears. The cool sensation simmers against the heat, disappearing before it has the chance to escape from my chin.

The moon lowers, bowing to the threat of light, the clouds once again being visible to the naked eye. Her chords pianissimo against the air to nothing but a whisper.

This was soon to be my tale to tell, and mine alone to carry on the stories she had entrusted me to keep. After a performance, there resides an emptiness, a longing for more, a craving no longer available to be wet by your words. I’m sad for both of us. You’ll never get that chance again.

We both die to the soft welcoming of new yellows and oranges, inciting new beginnings, never beknown to us. As the cold rides my spine, I will never forget the warmth that cascaded over me in your being.

Both our songs, no longer able to be sung.