I watch as the fire dances around the log. The fire ultimately will destroy the log with the heat of her dance. The log understands the fire’s need to dance, so he stays still, only to be destroyed.
The log loves the fire’s dance. He remains still, only giving an occasional pop of excitement, as the fire feeds her need. Her need to dance, to love, to envelope the log with everything she possesses.
The more she dances, the hotter it gets. The hotter it gets, the more she dances, unknowing what she is doing to the log. Her dance creeps into every crack and hole into the log’s soul. She makes the log radiate with her soul, her need for the log. The desire she feels for him burns deep within the log, the fire never notices, just continues her dance.
He is dying for her pleasure, unsure why. All he knows is the fire is beautiful while she dances around him, taking everything he can give. She doesn’t understand that the log is dying for her. The words are unspoken and the dance continues.
The dance of the fire is both beautiful and deadly. The log knows this and allows the dance to kill him, reduce him into ashes. He prays he is a Phoenix and will rise up once again, just to feel her dance again.
So she is dancing because she couldn’t do it without him. Every fire needs a log to fuel her dance, her passion, and her heart. The fire needs her log. Her port in the storm, that keeps her burning. His need is to keep her burning. The log needs to keep her dancing, warm and happy.
Without the fire the log would be cold. Yearning to be much more than simple wood. The fire completes the log, he doesn’t understand why. But the fire embraces him fully and keeps him warm. She embraces the log with her dance, her need to dance, and to be with the log.
The log and the fire’s love turns into ember, burning hot, but not as brilliantly. They know they are dying, the fire and her log. He let her dance, and paid the price. Her soul still radiating through him. The fire sparks and dances but slower now.
She realizes her dance killed him. Why did he let her do that? She never meant to kill the log, she only needed to dance and embrace her log.
Her log grew cold. She couldn’t live without him. Her dance slowed and cooled, she dies with the ashes she created. Her log.
The embers of their love, reduced to ashes. Until the last breath between the fire and the log are extinguished by time.
I know, this is not what I normally post about, but I wanted to share anyway. Thanks for reading today. I will try to go back to my normal posts soon.