there's a chaos in my whispering tonight

letters. captured smiles. ballads:
morphed to my stomach.
i want to kiss their papered faces
and sleep with them
tight to my chest.

wait!
what is that fire for?!

such red-orange invites me to parade into it with a passionate embrace.
but with a sting.
a scalding disaster.
i cringe away,
eyes darting towards the wood to hide.
i do not want to be the victim.
again.

my companion lites her documents aflame
singeing her fingers as her tears consistently quench the flame
until her keepsakes agonizingly whither and writhe.
none but a charred gray remains.
indistinguishable.

my baby!
that damnation will never lick up my child!

i cling to my treasures in panicked desperation.
"and if i can't tell you right now or i begin to cry-
i just have to say that i love you..."

"say..."

just syllables scrawled before their time is all.
an innocent kitten, my dear,
you were only an innocent mistake.

pasteurized molecules in the are thick,
weighted
with gasoline.
in which there is no algebra or physics or english or...
or purpose.
no purpose.

one day he may come back to me....

my companion's mouth shapes the words "your turn"

no.
there is no purpose in my action.

with faltering shaking fingers
a match is lit in my hand.
my hand.

a sickening turpentine smears over my mind and clarity.
as i lite.
and lite.
and lite.
and abandon my final clinging of redemption.

smoke rolls about like the tide
and envelopes my eyes with drugs
that hurt worse than the tears
turning gray on my cheeks.
angst and dying face paint
accomplish my demeanor.

we retreat from the sin.
the silentists left to our own demise.

gasoline leaks from my fingers
and into my nose
my brain
my heart

"fire can make a concience clean"
i struck the match to see.
but all it delivered was regret.