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Combustion
it was 3:33 in the morning
our room was dark and without light
I peered through the blinds
it was snowing outside
but I was burning inside
as I gazed upon the scene before me I started to remember
our matchbox forms
so packed
so tight
our contents volatile
always ready to ignite
under passion's slightest strike
yet still i did
on bended knee
propose to thee with plastic ring
what a foolish thing
to have been so frugal
to have built our love on something so fragile
to have forged our bond with something
that melts
under phosphorus's light
our love a forever malformed plastic specter
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