The thought of you,
Burns
But not like the searing of skin
As one falls hand-first into a ring of fire.
More like,
The overwhelming heat of a furnace
Used to smelt metals
Burning,
Impurities off the mind
Leaving behind a genuine soul
Aglow,
From the liberation of acceptance
Of mind, body, and soul
Burnt,
By a steel poker that used to prod
The fire. A familiar surface
One that requires no flame