Fire Water Protection Bubble (poem)
You’ve seen my face, wild with joy. And you’ve witnessed, my madness. Looked directly into my eyes, and cradled my sadness. What if, now, you choose: to sustain a gladness?
An explosive phoenix, currently embers, it wants fire, but can’t self-sustain, needs someone else… to massage and maintain.
The fire has consumed me, and nearly destroyed me. I can barely breath, and I fear oxygen. Never able to control myself, but maybe, by helping, we can.
A closing toroid of flame, a vacuuming jet. It’s next to a lake, but it can’t get wet. The water boils near with whistling rasps, tendrils of fingers stream by plumes. Untimely close to extinguishing gas, damming dowsing holds certain doom.
The steam is a barrier to the fire and heat. You need to enter to complete the cell. When you’re safe, I am too. Conceive, breath, weave, do.
Help me, but don’t put me out. Strike balance in love, let’s end this bout.