Bathing in a Campfire
A layer of dust creeps up my legs,
Perspiration wets my forehead.
My fingertips check my chest,
Hearts still beating, they come back wet.
I am dirty. I need a bath.
What? O where?
Where shall I find water in woods?
"No! water isn't clean enough,
Polluted Purity", she scoffed.
"Come with me, I'll give you a bath"
And so I followed her, naked as a jaybird,
Deep in the sun-baked woods,
To a scalene structure of serotinal fossils.
She rubbed my body with kerosene.
Oh, the perfume seeping through skin
The essence flowing through veins,
Deoxygenated and choked, it won't light.
Don't you love that smell? I do.
"We have to draw a line", she said.
But drew a circle instead. Trapped.
"Ready the fire", I rubbed my palms.
Stones clashed, the wood left a frittle.
A spark? Hurrah!
The Heat frisked my body,
Searching for explosives, to detonate.
It concentrates at a point and
begins to simmer.
taking away liquid sins.
The firewood crackles and crumbles into ash.
Ash and Cinder in a cryptic tattersall.
As I bend to inspect the pattern,
Flesh sizzles and now I see
Fleeing fireflies erupting from me.
They are calling the stars out to play.
City stars are shy, they never come out.
But not here in the wild. I get to see
Them frolick around in euripus galaxies
Splashing cosmic water onto
their playful cousins.
The Moon is indecisive,
She doesn't, but wants to see.
So, she watches through a pirate's stance,
Wearing an eyepatch.
A gentle breeze is concerned about me,
But she strays too close and changes
from concerned to consumed.
The smell of burning, the smell of burnt.
The taste of ash in my fingernails.
Choking smoke fills up my lungs,
Ripping away my eyeballs.
The wood creatures scream for me.
My eyes burn, but I open to see
Oh dear, what is happening to me?
Psithurism brings rumours of rainfall,
As the campfire ingurgitates smoky entrails.
Worry Not! I'm still here!
Look up at that Quasar, it's me!
Stare long enough and you will hear me sing.
Diapason of my Empyrean Purity.