there are some things that one never thinks would catch fire. but here we are

drenched in sun, woodsmoke, and gasoline. and we cannot wash this passion clean from our clothes. the first spring rains come pouring down and we keep two halves of

a secret

held in your mouth with the stars. this time we cannot continue but for our own sake. because even when we can no longer dream, we can still become someone else; we can page through their memories and clutch the bouquet of fake flowers they caught at a wedding, whose wedding they can no longer remember but the flowers smell like gasoline and wilt in the heat,

drenched in the sun, woodsmoke, and gasoline; and we have caught fire with an intensity that melts the shards of broken glass and mirror. and we are the wind, blowing the woodsmoke across the rippling water. we are the sun

and the reflections of burning leaves dance in the mirage and in your eyes.

#Fiction #InLove #Love #Myth #Mythology #Poetry #Religion #TheInvestigator #TheMoon #Theology #WhateverThisIs