Day 286: Filament
∴
sometimes love runs so hot
it colors beyond blushing
and flares to neon orange
and smoke.
as long as the fuel survives,
it burns there,
in pulses and steam,
and dyes everything around it
with its hue.
anything you see near it
in fact,
is lit
by that glow.
it can burn so hot,
that the wire it was carried on
pops
and disconnects
like a hair clip loosed of its hinge.
and then love extinguishes itself
like a blown filament
that dangles in glass cages.
it becomes a relic:
a stilled, incorrupt saint
that proves love is,
but will not speak
or animate.
∴
