Crepe Paper Flames

You force of change! The ace of spades swallowed the king of hearts.The cherry on top of delights reached without expectation. You hurt like splinter-fetcher hot needles against and then in skin. I finally believed in past kinships, the electric something, or the residue of history. Old stories passed down from mother tongue to ear. Or simply kindred souls. Like the taste of honey or the feel of tense campfire orange crepe paper flames and sweet anticipation. To decipher marks, scars. To taste the bitter and risk it all again. I saw and felt the light for a thin sliver of time. Beware the bards; charisma leads to chaos. Look past their sad eyed lure.