And I have it all to myself. Not even an inkling to share. My thoughts have become a blur and are now undecipherable. But I have fallen into some bliss and am proceeding to slather myself in it like butter on the first corn cob of the season.
The fire is consuming itself and I'm committed to staying until only embers remain. Why is it that complications seem less relevant at night? These swirling metaphors of fire making me laugh out loud. Then I get pulled a million miles high into a web of sparkling universe above me. It's mesmerizing. For a while I'm right there floating in it. Pulled in. Playing with more fire in a cosmic sea.