“These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.”
-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Fire is warmth, whispers,
promises of preservation.
You reflect it; its flames
are red ribbons in your dark pupils.
But its smoke will scratch your throat.
Powder is harmless, hapless,
sifting softness.
You can watch it slip like silk
through your sieves of fingers.
But, aloof, static, it will make you itch.
Fire and powder
will, as they kiss, consume
breath, life, death.
They will whisk away these essentials,
replace them with
light, color, and sound.