Slowly

The fire feels erased. The flames that guide me, do not feel well. Where you going when they just, theft your books with a smile. I read a worn love letter, The Wind carries it in the street one day in peace. Goes from input to output, repeats and disappears. Dream with open arms repeatedly until it becomes madness in my square. I write in uppercase heart these months when the fire appears to back away from here. Slowly slowly.