I visited you when I was younger.
They said you stood the tallest.
I didn’t believe them, but as I, myself, walked up to you —
I was speechless.
My throat and mouth quickly became one and parched.
I looked up. I looked up again. I kept looking up.
Magnificently white as if Leonardo Da Vinci had spent weeks here before, with his brushes.
I was tall enough for you, my tip-toes screeched.
You had been throwing clanks and thrusts all day, but you invited me anyway.
Dread and fear were born here.
Was I a fool to let you control my life too? Or was it foolish not to?
It was a devastatingly long few minutes in the air with you.
Face now achromatic, with the lag of twelve jets.
How do human souls fund and enjoy this?
It felt too natural as you laughed when I walked away whimpering.
written by: Corey M. Rose, 1/24/2021
Why Fire Burns 