Fireplace Memories

I want to see you burn in the fireplace where we kept warm. Entranced by the flames, crackling and the charred wood, glowing with a slight hint of blue. Reminds me of your eyes. I want to see you there in place of the wood, your skin melting up and down your arms and your legs resembling the bark, rough and black. I can imagine your distorted face with your eyes widely opened into tunnels of spinning waves your mouth twisted into a cave of screeching bats. Sounds like music. I want to see every shred of your clothes burn while you squirm in the light of my revenge. Your eyes blue as the flames, your skin rough as the bark. It makes me smile. I open my eyes to see you lying next to me, half asleep. I find myself disappointed as I slowly wake up and realize you breathing, alive again.