Powering rivers with rocket fuel, gulf thick with the heavy morass. Light this up and watch the water burn. Steam and the reflections of the flames, distorted by the waves and their own heat like the ghostly cars you see in the distance from the asphault on a hot summer day. When you stare at a flame long enough, you feel primordial. That connection between you and the first cave man lost in the sea of time and existence.

Put the mouth to the test, and see for the first time in your life if these words are yours. Feel that heat washing over you, pressing your lungs, the steam forcing clear your sinuses. Everything forced out blazing.

Being alive is painfully erotic. The pain makes it real, and casts aside those insane delusions of Heaven. I'd rather feel the puslations of the wind scalding me as I entreat the world with unworded questions. The answers are in the air, and I can smell them crowding around me. The answers are in my skin, dancing up my body and inching up my neck. The answers are in my eyes, wide open and bringing in all that surrounds me.