I’d prefer not to be cooked alive, which is why I tend to keep my distance from the kitchen doors.
You’d love it here in Texas then, we’re already there! You can heatstroke to your heart’s desire, not that I’d accuse you of having a heart of course.
And to think it’s not even summer yet…
I submit two poems that are similar yet opposite in nature for I could not decide which to present to your judgeliness.
Flames
Once furious, fierce
Flaring, flickering, fleeting
Now lie dormant
Heartache
For the more romantic audience, a prequel:
Flames
Fervent, frenzied
Beating, burning, blazing
The fires of passion roar
Love