The Flame

There were fires
cascading the room alight
dripping fever from my head
pouring sweat upon the walls
I swept to your side
as a moth to the flame
licking the sweet milk
drooling like honey
down the ripple of your flesh
and there I knelt
swollen in worship
dripping in fever
plowing my gritty hands to the floor
arms outstretched
in service and obedience
as you swept to my side
we drank of the sweet milk
oozing from the walls
as the moth, in service and obedience
knelt before the hungry flame

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