I slithered into the vacuum left by him. The Phoenix rose from your heart’s embers. Hurdles there were at every bend and thorns to tread on at every step. You let water spill over the ignited fire in me as if you’d to. My thirst left my throat burning. 3. When the sun is sunk in the waves, you come all the way to me – the hard boulder made of reeds on fire. Then you drift again, the living iceberg – cold fumes around you. You come like a snow-woman in the sun and your melting lips can’t get me cooled off inside, for yours is the fire I stole like Prometheus did. And now I’m the kiln of flames, burning … but you stand over there, smiling – cold outside on your naked body, and inside of you resides the fire I stole. I was hotter like desire, hurling spears of fire against the peaks of ice. With Coldie, I turn cold, hot with Hottie. I didn’t find fire and cold so infectious before. 4. Words explode, sometimes they don’t like duds on battlefields. Words of a comforter feel like feathers and words of a curse cut like knives. Words like frustration are darkest. Sweetheart, as I plan to build the tallest skyscraper with the words I acquired and borrowed, you say only words cannot make you rise above this vaster world of grief and guilt.
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