Bonfire

An echo from another world,
of someone threatening to burn me,
to burn the heart out of me,
resounds in my ears.
I had no idea that it would feel this good,
this warm,
this exciting,
this calm,
this right.
It feels as if every moment is another dry leaf,
barely starting in this world but already gone,
consumed by a growing flame.
What is this growing flame,
you ask?
It is none other than love.
This love may be surrounded by water,
but it can make do with what it has:
us.
May we feed this fire with our words,
whether written,
spoken,
or left as thoughts.
May it consume our actions,
until they are nothing more than flying ashes,
to the point where it annoys others.
Who cares about them, anyway?
They don’t give off warmth or light,
as this love,
this fire,
does.