With Shaking Hands

Third degree burns

I once met a boy whom dreamed of fire
A fire so hot you could almost see it behind his gorgeous hazel eyes
I had to learn to love you gently
As gentle as the ash that falls from the sky to land so perfectly on the grass below
I should have known that I would be get burnt
But still even as you left and the sky grew black
I sat by rolling smoke blowing the coals
Trying to bring you back to life