I thought I dreamt her,
eyes wide before the setting sun.
She glowed in ruby trimmings,
not red haired, but aflame.
A lithe phoenix, she pirouetted,
curtsied, and outshone the celestial:
no universe could contain her spark.
I dared not blink for fear of losing that gem,
that feminine perfection
though, in truth, she was more alive
than I would ever be.
If she noticed my brooding presence,
she did not indicate,
her flames were meant for all, not my own exclusivity.
As the sun burned the horizon
from flame to flicker to ash,
she danced and twirled,
until the light diminished to obsidian,
she the candle in the night.
With a breath of wind she was extinguished
and my soul could breath again,
charred as it was.
I shall feel her on my lungs