the urge to spill the contents of your stomach arise with such abruptness
when the smell of burning flesh hits your nose.
it carries itself throughout your body-
from the tips of your fingers to your every toe.
fire has always made love to what it touches
but was blind to the sacrifice that came with love.
there will always be an undying thirst
in the pit of your gut
and in the depths of your lungs.
the word crave will be the only thing known.
lips will crack from parched insanity
and blood will drip onto fabric
to seep past skin with urgency to paint the soul.
metallic tastes will override burning flesh
and the urge to drink will be so surreal
that rationality will become more than a desire.
it shall be the blue in the skies
and the green of the earth;
the seas and winds and plants and heat.
