“We don’t use the fireplace anymore.”
I was the only one who used it anyway.
I used it; I loved it.
I loved the fire’s dancing,
Contained in a cage.
It saved me. It saved me when my carols
Drowned in noise: Flames and carols captive,
Flames and carols drowning, but flickering still.
Never a Silent Night,
Yet
Each was always bright.
One switch, and it was on;
So powerful, it could burn this place down,
Yet subdued, calm—with ash like snow.
What would happen if the fire escaped?
Was there ever a choice?
We flickered together, waiting—
So powerful,
Contained in such a little space.
Not for long.
“We don’t use the fireplace anymore.”
You can’t use something that’s not there.