Fire's Embrace, Ice's Kiss

A shimmer rises, unseen, from asphalt's black skin, a phantom limb of summer, reaching. It warps the world, a funhouse mirror, where distant cars waver, mirages in the making. Heat, a heavy blanket, smothering breath, a slow, relentless burn that leaches energy, leaving only a thin, salty film and the echo of a gasp. Sweat, a desperate offering to the sun king, a futile attempt to appease the fiery reign. Then, the sharp, sudden bite of winter, a crystalline fracture in the air. Frost flowers bloom on windowpanes, ephemeral art, and breath plumes, ghostly, in the biting wind. The world contracts, shrinks inward, seeking warmth. Cold, a silent sculptor chiseling landscapes of ice, a stark, unforgiving beauty that numbs the senses. It's the quiet hush of a snow-laden forest, the brittle snap of frozen branches, the deep, aching chill that settles in the bones. Heat and cold, opposing forces, a constant push and pull, a cosmic dance. One, a fiery embrace that consumes, the other, a frigid kiss that preserves. We exist, suspended between these extremes, seeking equilibrium, a fragile balance, a fleeting moment of comfort in the vast, indifferent expanse. Are we drawn to the fire, or the ice? Or simply searching for the place where neither truly holds sway? ©bfa032125