Your familiarity brought me comfort. Your resilience gave me strength. But our love burned too hot. Life with you drained me of my own, leaving only our scorched remains.


Georgia pulled the bread out of the oven and placed it to cool.  She made bread for Danny each Friday as an after-school treat. It had been months since she baked. The bell rang at the school. Her house remained quiet. Georgia sliced the bread and ate in agonizing silence.


The disclosure of your brightness, your warmth, is unexpected. Still clothed for winter, I am not ready to receive you, but your light, so tantalizing, persuades me to peel back my layers, exposing myself to your gentle heat. Touch me; I will risk getting burned.