: About Me

The tip of my thumb glides gently down the cold metal and lightly pushes the red switch, As I hold it with care I lower the first arcticle into the heat until it's lit. I pinch a corner and hover it above my drive until I feel it rising uncontrollably, Once it touches the ground i take a seat and enjoy the beautiful sight of what's infront of me. Little red stars dance gracefully in lines along the fabric, making bit by bit disapear, With the palm of my hand sliding back and forth on the ground the ashes I relievedly smear. Memories and dreams erode and crumble depressingly before my eyes,...