Teenagers smoking in the woods.

There's something to be said for

love like a loaded gun.

But when you're paying by the bullet--

what happens when the clip is spent?

Nothing left but a useless weight in your hand.


Instead, give me love like a forest fire,

engulfing all in its path.

A glorious blaze from a careless spark--

the kind of thing rabbits run from,

the kind of thing that turns subdivisions to cinders.

The End

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