My love was a wildfire
It burned us both.
Before that a flame,
Invaded your hearth.

Will you be my ——?
I won’t say it again.

My love was a wildfire
It burned out our senses.
Wanted to throw me away
And I did too.
I burned away your feeling,
burned away mine too.

Your love is blueberries
You’re not in season.
Your young shoots,
Young and green.

Now we burn
You are my fuel
I love you
But it is our inverno
It is cold now.

I cry
I want you to cry
But I don’t want to make you cry.

if i keep talking to you right now i might crush on you again

I hope so
Throw off your conscience,
Leave the world outside.
It’s what i do
To stay sane near you
You can imagine why.

I will be hot as a brand
I will burn what I hate
about myself
And you will come to me
in the night or day
(It matters not okay)

i never saw a problem with the way you treated me, —, as ive always treated you as an equal.

I should stop speaking to the dead.
(But I’m a shaman
The past is dead and tragic.)
I can do better.

You let me decide your name,
“whichever way you want…
there is no right or wrong way!”
I’ll take care of it, —- —.
Can you hear that?

I(‘ll) notice(d) that you (we’)(a)re walking (t)here,
And I(‘ll) call(ed) out your name,
—

.

.

.

Fathom’s Second I

Fathom’s Second in Three