Collecting Fire

Sometimes, you come in contact with someone that you relate to on a, for lack of a better term, cosmic level. But-you’re not meant to know them for long, or become their lover, you’re just meant to meet them. The reason usually isn’t clear why, and sometimes it never is, but the experience you have with them is one that lingers. It’s a time in your life you’ll probably recount to your grandchildren, often think about on your bus ride home, or write about because if you don’t, your fingers will itch and burn. You collect the fire until you can’t anymore.


There was a night the stars fell from the sky

And singed and burned our hair and skin with light

You looked me in the eyes with the worlds fire

The time we spent apart could only be desire

The stars that fell the years before we grabbed

And tied them all together once again

We fell upon the bed of light for good

No more longing, no more hurt

We stored up fire and then we let it burn

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