Burn

Fledgling flame,
match to wick,
to breed anew
or split in two
and live again,
to touch the need
that made her burn.

Glowing power,
silent heat,
to yearn
and learn
and bare her soul,
discovery a joyous journey
that soothed the burn.

Warming hands,
caressing eyes,
sparking light
across the night
she treasured,
shared with someone
who burned too.

©April 2014, August 2022
Christina Anne Hawthorne

About Christina Anne Hawthorne

Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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