i'm boiling like the water oceans of Europa boil beneath layers of ice. |
212 degrees water and you're threatening me with a match because you know i'm afraid of fire and like a lamb to the slaughter, i was drawn to the possibility of light. boy you've boiled me to 212 degrees water now i'm boiling like the water oceans of Europa boil beneath layers of ice after heat energy from tidal friction causes her to flex her core like she's cumming. your match used to inspire. i would close the blinds in all my windows. i would turn off all my lights in anticipation of fire. because i was so very cold, the first word spoken, primal as hunger, need, or death. cold that could steal every one's warmth and freeze their final breath. my cold, when it bothers you, makes you call me frigid bitch snow queen. (my face remained as impassive as an ivory statue's mien.) you told me you didn't like the cold. overnight once on the slope of Kilimanjaro, you told me, the cold waited, frostbite, while Sleep, bearer to the grave, lured you with the small snippets of death those who are drowsy crave. so we would sit in the dark and talk for hours about all of the things light brings, like fireflies, sunsets and flowers, and i would insist we reminiscence about the time Aphrodite made the human eye out of air, earth and water and lit the fire inside which shines out like an LED flashlight and makes possible sight. i didn't have the heart to tell you i didn't want to see a firefly, sunset or flower or bask in the light emitted from solar power, i only wanted to see you. so we sat in the dark and talked for hours about all that light brings. all its powers. how we're bringing it to space because we heard it's very dark there, how light will help us find extraterrestrial life, because life on earth isn't rare, and life in space is more rare than unicorns, even, and the more rare an object is the greater its worth like diamonds and kindness and a virgin birth. i only want to see you don't you want to see me? we've been sitting in the dark for a while now dark too dark for shadows dark that makes me think of shame dark like a spider's dream don't you feel the same? i want to see you do you want to see me? but you just kept talking about ETs, shadows and TV, integral tactical lights that you saw fit on a .50 caliber machine gun i said, let's light the match you said, we only have the one maybe we should save it for when it might be more fun. i said we can spread the light you said that in trying to transfer the flame we couldn't take the chance the sudden movement might put it out the way logic is in an interpretive dance. i said I'll put the kettle on let's have tea i can't relate to you, you're me but maybe over a cup of chamomile we'll learn how to disagree. i said, let's try to transfer imagine how much my face will warm up when it the light depicts. a green douglas fir would go up like the great fire of london in 1666. you said you knew what might be more fun using the match to light a large nuclear-powered "melt probe" which would melt through my ice until it hit my ocean below. my unlit interior is now considered to be the most likely location for extraterrestrial life in the solar system. i almost excused myself from the table because i didn't want to be probed for life, but i was too shocked to move, so i held onto my mug of chamomile as you struck your match and lit a firework and i fought down bile tried to resist my mounting ire and i held onto my cup of tea all the while and swallowed your fire. it didn't matter how hot your firework was it still was put out by the boiling scalding scorching 212 degrees water under my layers of ice boiling like the water oceans of Europa boil beneath layers of ice after heat energy from tidal friction causes her to flex her core like she's cumming and i said, in the dark, "you forgot about the boiling water under my ice you frigid bitch." and in the dark, i finally saw you. |