Burning Soul

... and suddenly, in the still, quiet moments, I feel it: a tiny orange flame, slowly burning off the last of the ruins. Soon there will be just an empty space, waiting to be filled again. An expanse of possibility, a place to stretch my limbs, to feel free and light and uncaged. A place to reach into a reverie. A place to pull him back to me. I can build anything I want there - a sandcastle, a temple, a cocoon, a bed. I will paper the walls with bliss, bits of music and laughter and poems and wine, and paint the ceiling with stars, and live an eternal dream...