make the best fire wood.
We'd run around getting warm in our skivvies.
Going blind from the brightness.
Isn't that why they say love is blind.
We would have to close our eyes!
A whole forest consumed
such a beautiful sight.
Us standing hand and hand,
does it even matter whose fault it was anymore.
The smell of smoke lingering in our hair and clothes.
Ashes flutter to the ground,
like confetti celebrating what we've become."