Campfire

Follow the flame, the flame
flickers, focused fiercely
on your eye. Why? I wonder
what you see in those flames
that drive us near, away, too
hot, too dry, not enough of either.
Water crackles, lips crack, cries
of steam searing out of wet wood.
Eyes burn, heat smoke, shimmering.
Watch the flame escape, become
its own, spreading with indifference, knowing
where it's going. It all burns
down around us, sending
pops penetrating
from every direction. Heat hovers
everywhere, singeing
hair, skin
blisters, pain
freeing us from inhibition, freed
in our consumption,
purified.