In retrospect,
It was not at all incipient.
The first ignition,
was more than seeded,
maniac enough.
A rush of fire bloomed,
nearly unready,
to bear in me,
a sweeping fiery roses of blazes,
over-blossomed.
Enraged. Almost insufferable.
It melted down all,
prematurely, way too quickly.
It was somewhat frightful.
Yet, we met in it.
Not sure how consciously.
For me, partly bravely: risking.
But haven’t we, already? Then, than that?
Then came these intruders, disguised as a safeguard.
“Do we burn the same?”
A longing to foresee. Ahead of reality.
“Will we run out of fuel?”
and another,
“Will I suffocate alone in the ashes-
in the end?“
Clear enemy: delirium.
Yet, still well-nigh impossible to ignore.
While still yearning for answers,
I’ll serve the waves of bright flashes and flares,
If it burns, i’ll surf with it.
But, if it does not, i’ll bury it, peacefully.
To accept to let go,
but to also give it a go.
Without giving in or up.
Being aware that,
some days were colder than another.
Darker than before I was without you,
some nights, the thoughts were louder than the truths.
Nevertheless, it burns dearly,
or nevermore is not silly.
I’ll feed the flame, certainly.
I’ll bed with it, nonchalantly.
Zoornalism 