Fire Sign

By Katherine Meikle

They say my hearts a ‘fire sign’

and I’m a pyromaniac. 

I let it burn wild and devour 

until it burns itself out,

filling the room with 

smoke 

and soot 

glazing the walls of my chest. 

When my heart loves well,

I am an inglenook, 

the hearth of any home.

Glowing amber,  

my eyes dance 

like candles and campfires.

When it loves unwell, 

it’s more caustic than I can control.

Melting metal, 

melting rock. 

Volcanic. 

Scalding.

Blazing so hot 

nothing can touch it

and no one can interfere. 

Now that I’ve walked through my 

soul's hot coals I 

let it simmer darkly, 

I let it rest. 

My eternal flame

burning small and blue and quiet.

They say my heart’s a fire sign,

and I’m a pyromaniac.

So be careful with me my darling,

mine is a love you can’t give back.

By Katherine Meikle