Losing control

I pull myself closer. Or so I try. Under the intent pigment of a parched moon, the candle’s flame whirls fiercely in the air, burning rapidly. Up high above, a slice of cheese melts under its heat. I can feel the burn, putting my insides to flame. An elating singe, giving me goose-bumps. It’s a strange exaltation that rips through the restraints of containment – a rare freedom, a feeling devoid of a control whatsoever, floating like placid exaltation and drifting across the dark crease of the night. I can feel its cold touch against my skin ablaze, the cool fragment of air patched atop the flaring desire. The heavy breathes scent with the late-night odor of damp wind – I can barely take it anymore. All my facets start to cringe under the pull of this agitation. Barely intact anymore, I let go. The balances finally tip and up in the zenith, a chunk of the cheese moon goes missing.

I close my eyes. It is the complete moment.

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