The wilderness within me.

I burn them in my heart

tossing them upon the fire

within

to keep my love burning.

Brunette, Blonde, and Coal-black; hair

sizzling as they combust,

releasing tongues that gobble up

their selves.

Age means nothing. The oldest

thrown there are both burned

to ash

or great logs

ready to crackle into the

night for decades hence,

fed by memories.

I see the colors clash, orange and

blue and green all flickering

up flames from the respective

souls I Immolate.

They never fully drown each-other

out though each has flared

brighter

in its time.

I need these lights, dangerous

in their destruction as I sit

in a bubble, wrapped

in darkness.

My own soul huddles closer to

the coals as it

runs low,

smoking.

Perhaps some facsimile of me

burns in someone else's fire

somewhere, and this thought

warms me.