O 2

Fires burn.

Create.

Destroy.

But they can only exist with oxygen.

Two molecules, highly reactive.

You, my love, are part of that bond.

I have learned to ignite my own soul,

I understand it is important to set yourself on fire.

But I'll never burn quite as bright.

Smoldering eyes are all that's left 

Without you.

 

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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