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I burned. 

I couldn’t tell you why; 

It was beyond me. 

It felt natural. 

My soul roiled in the blaze. 

Peering in, columns of 

Fear and delight vacillated 

Faster and faster, 

So as to appear one and the same. 

Twisting arms escaped the pyre, 

Scorching others in reach. 

I felt sorrow, 

but only the vague outline. 

Isn’t this what a fire is supposed to do? 

The flames waned, 

And I felt as close to concord 

As dissonance could get. 

This time - 

When gasoline rained down 

To stoke the glowing coals, 

I defied my nature. 

I asked what it meant to burn, 

Whether ignition was inexorable; 

And, if not - for an escape. 

And thus,

“I” ceased to be.


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