Firestorm
It’s hard not to fantasise, me being me.
Standing central, amongst trunks, incendiary. Not to demonish natural causes. Consumption combustion, my muse in reusing. Blaze-radiant heat, crisping my contours, flaking to flames, delaminating me. Baked like a boar, but burning still deeper. Entropic plan to crush molecular movement, for ever! Chilling, for now, inferno for more, people, devoid of extinguishers ploy. Let’s empty the petrol of infinity’s plan.
Let it begin
Setting this fire, lightning did say, to thunders echo, “sheep relay, followers tamed-slam…….”, “To earth I strike my harshest heed, I’ll carbonise your core to diamonds, see. Pressurise the whole environment, disaster, then crystallise all, until nothing, but silence sings.
When we’re internally hotter, than the sun. My role here will, be almost done. Flame fill your hearts with lusts new purpose, then vaporise you, from core to Cortex.
The licks begin, Achilles squeeze, the lapses char the hairs, then knees. My thoughts are mesmerised, insane. Hypnotist of your naked blame. Too lost in love of your temptations, thighs and bones exposed incantations.
The heat is rising, dripping sores, the temperature inside me explodes, so rich….
The only feelings left in me, is pure desire being set free. As perfume is a campaign seed, the virus of our carnal needs.
In this moment, as it’s our last, I contemplate the linear path. I think, as mind meat cooks, en-croute, that humans waste their time in haste. These cogs of insignificance-race. To prove their standing on our shoulders (faces, fingers, climbing boulders).
These achievements do ‘them’ proud, they think in measures taken down. But truth be shouting, fuck endeavour. The human place will go forevermore, firestorm unleashed for my pleasure.
5 billion years, to persuade you, that sensual contact will elevate all of us, from mundanity. Tolle helped me understand how sexuality heals our minds/hands. Releases magic to our species. Let it out. Embellished thesis.
Times tide intimacy blazing, morphological still raging. Leave no fossils fornication, this last evolve, love infestation.
Let it fucking burn!
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eckhart_Tolle
https://www.cookipedia.co.uk/recipes_wiki/En_croute
https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/demonish
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/2003_Okanagan_Mou
About the Creator
Paul Beckett
I’m a writer, horologist & joy filled fantasist. Reality to me is plastic. I’m fascinated with time, quantum physics, analogue and fashion.
My writings at least 69% autobiographical, often 99%
Fav:Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams- S.Plath
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