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"When the smoke cleared, there were no fireflies. There was no 'him' or 'her.' Just ashes..."
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-Last Dance with the Fireflies-

Your hand was cold in mine as we walked among dying flowers, memories flowing from our eyes like shadows before an unwelcome light. Fireflies twirled around my fingertips as the stream at our feet ran red, dancing on a dream lost to reality.

We kissed - your lips were like blood. I asked why and you answered with a sad smile, your bright eyes finally letting the darkness within burn through. Beneath the starless night sky, I understood, a tiny light flitting across your face with the innocence of a homicide. My arms encircled you, and we danced to a silent song only we could ever hear. Blue and gold remembrances became forever lost in the scent of incense and dew-matted hair.

The fires surrounding us illuminated our sorrow, and we were beautiful.

The chill night wept for our beauty, consumed by lovers' despair. Through sanguine tears, you told me our poison was rooted in love. My eyes closed against pleading lights, but I opened them to you with the evening's last kiss. As we danced, the fireflies cast lengthening shadows, falling to the water and enkindling the night.

I held you to me as flames lept around us, a smoldering heart in the eyes of angels.

We burned.

Our eyes reflected passionate memories, and the smoke swallowed our shallow breaths.

In the eternal soundless instant before ashes, I heard a firefly weep for the first time.

Together, we burned.

-Adam Morsa 5:01 PM 7/10/03