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Fuega

Fire must be a woman, frost bitten by love.
In an attempt to warm up the Cold,
Fire limited itself and in return
Cold fizzled her out.

She gave warmth.
She gave light.

She refined everything given to her.
She could easily melt away impurities and even held the power to provide a fresh start..

Her red was as deep as the last cherry picked in July.
As vibrant as the sun on a California Summer’s day.

She bared herself,
the same way that the ocean does.
Welcoming, but slightly intimidating -
She allowed herself to be handled.

What you saw is what She was.

A force to be reckoned with.

An anomaly of nature, the greatest of contradictions.
Soft but harsh.
Lively yet lifeless.
Her kiss could singe.

Fire must be a woman.

Who, after giving all that She had to offer,
was forced to destroy all that lay in her path.

She left nothing un-scorched.
She left nothing un-singed.

Yet, She was left cold.

Fire must be a woman, fizzled out by the Cold.

--Essence W., Adult