I want to lounge outside
And get lost in the fire
Of a burning stone pit.
I want to feed it logs,
Freshly split
By an axe passed down.
The famished flames
Will thank me.
I want the smoke to
Stain my hair.
My sweatshirt will be
Doused
In my favorite smell.
Crackling, restful in my ears.
Light reflecting solace
In my eyes.
I want the night to be long.
I want the air to be cold.