Cry Wolf.

There is sway in fire. Back and forth. Flicker and flit. Rise and low.

You are the sway to my heart. Up and down. Tug and pull. Swing and jump.

The smoke builds up and chokes and drowns. Ashes fill up and flame burns it down. You fill me up and you burn me down. Pieces of me lay charred on the ground.

Hangings of pictures cover the melting walls. They get us through when there is no hope at all. When the phone line is cut and we cried too much “wolf,” help isn’t coming and down comes the roof. 

It’s a pretty dance to watch shadows climb high while we flicker and kiss and make love ’till we die. It’s a hypnosis that calls, moans and chants, we ignore fire growing for just one more dangerous dance.

There is a sway in fire. Back and forth. Lean and sway. We fuel each other rather perfectly, burn up and then down, while “wolf” is what we play. 

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