It will be
By fire —
Burning inky black words
Charring countless pages —
Their dog-eared corners curling in the coals
And fuming with spent ghosts and emptied soul-hells
That aren’t even mine.
No longer in possession
Of those words and pages.
They are as gone as my mind was
Before I struck the match
And threw it into the stove.
*** More fire, Sweet Cheeks? Not bored of it yet? ***
*** I think I am done with fire now… but not for long. Never for long…. ***