Love, That Fire That Consumes

Love is an ember. It begins with a spark, fragile and timid, dancing in the breeze of our desires. Then it ignites, it burns, it consumes. It warms our souls and lights up our nights, but it can also reduce us to ashes.

To love is to walk barefoot on a tightrope stretched between the sky and the abyss. It’s savoring the sweetness of a kiss knowing it could be the last. It’s writing promises on the skin of the beloved, hoping they never fade.

But one day, the flame weakens. The other drifts away, or perhaps it is fate that blows too hard. Then, all that remains is the smoke of memories, clinging to our skin like a scent that refuses to extinguish. We become the ashes of a past love, scattered by the wind of regret.

And yet, despite the burns, despite the scars, we always reach out toward the fire. Because love, even when it hurts, remains the most beautiful of all fires.