things started dying today like they always do as will me and you that is just to say the leaves are falling away grass a sepia hue daylight more subdued darkness here to stay prepare for hibernation during winters duration you might not see the light wrap up tight take on the night the season of the raven
I’ve been chasing warmth as long as I can remember. I never really felt it from the people around me, so I had to craft it. The first time was when I found a soggy box of matches at the park where the kids sneak to smoke pot after sundown. I gathered a few crusted leaves and struck a match. The smoke scorched my nostrils and the flame scathed my forearm. The flame flickered in my irises making my eyeballs water like a dog eyeing raw meat. Gradually I made my way to bigger things. The port-a-potty at the abandoned McMansion development site. The Gazebo on the hill next to the baseball field. The dumpster behind the discount grocer. My first house was a couple months ago. They never found out who did it.
The embrace of a flame is nothing like that of a person. A person is stiff, awkward, and let’s go as soon as is polite. A flame cradles you like a slimy newborn and pursues you if you try to run.
One day I’ll embrace the warmth forever.
