Works of Fire

the candle wick dancing, a fire that knows no end, unaware of its impermanence seen through a single wipe of air that extinguishes that which burns the skin deep down below the epidermis there you will find life, a soft spot that speaks in high volumes rendering pain in marked reminders of any given moment moments seizing the drills of life the fire is found in an honest diary and keeps itself alive by marching with time that allows us to remain warm and toasty.