The sounds of our cinder

Originally posted October 2011, edited and updated

The cold of your eyes soften the blisters of these flames.

You’re holding my attention with a kings ransom. Our mutual gravity pulls each other part, fueling the bonfire.

Who discovered the blaze. Something dangerous to distances us from the ugly memories of ancient seas.

I’m not looking for a shipmate, or a life raft. I’m looking for more words to keep this pire from going out.

Papa taught me to never stay too long. But your twisted sense of humor and honest grip keep me in the embers. Seems like a perfect occasion for another round of spirits.

Cure me, sweet water. I’m running out of breath sobbing for help into this cup. Curse you, Apollo.

Just one more before I burn away. One more to sooth the burns. To keep my heart beating long after I have gone. I just want one more to hold me as I listen to the sounds of conflagration.

I’d do anything for you just to get you to stay an hour longer in this inferno. Don’t make me dare you to stay here for the rest of our lives.

Seeing the world change through the flames. Lost between Neverland and Nirvana.

Slow dance with me as our bodies burn. The mystery will live on, but the ashes of our hearts will blow away before anyone can save us from ourselves.

Do you hear the sounds of our cinder. He takes after us.

Like what you read? Give Kellen Terrett a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.