Monday, April 22, 2013

On the edge of a burning light - unfinished

Her flame burnt bright. Oh, it never drew weary moths or unsuspecting people. But if you knew what you were looking for, her flame could engulf you. But that was the nature of her incendiary flame. It combusted and consumed, if you knew where to look. She drew you in. She dried you out. A fiery succubus? Not even close. She drew you in. She drew you out. She gave you her fire, burning you, burning her. And for a fleeting moment you were aflame. Till you saw yourself burn. You tried to dowse it, the raging fever. You succeeded, where she never could. But with the dying embers, you saw something vital in you die. Something that was only there because of her. And it felt like an amputation, of your soul. She dried you out.