I stare deep into the growing flames as I toss back another
   cold one.
Fire is so destructive, yet within the right framework it
   cleanses.
Intense are the flames as I wrestle with thoughts drifting
   along with the smoke; carried aloft high through the trees.
The smoke is the taint of life, but the fire remains pure.
I see her in the distance, far away, yet never too far. I yearn
    for her embrace and her understanding nature.
I see her in the flame, burning the dross out of her life.
Being refined into someone more pure than she was before.
More whole than broken.
Yet her smoke is her emptiness from within.
A place she doesn't spend time in.
She is not meant to be under glass. A simple reflection in
   the fire.
Break glass if you need a friend.
She is full of life and love. Always ready to give an answer.
When the fire grows hotter and more pure the smoke 
   becomes less.
Hot bodies joined together in passions motions burning
   richly in the night.
No more expectations, no more promises.
Just fire between man and woman igniting a pathway
   along time's highway.
Enveloped in a blaze of desire they overcome the smoke
   of their lives and join hot burning coals of lust.
But as morning comes, the fire is gone. Smoldering ash.
Dust to dust.
Until the next fire rages and the Phoenix rises from the ashes to once again burn them together.

rb