Spicy

Keeper of the Fire

She imagined a flame, burning.

Enlivened by the sounds of the band, bodies moving with a choreography derived from within, by what has always existed in time, a playful battle of push and pull maintaining the electric current, needing no words yet often mistaken. Two fires almost touching, faces unimportant.

She loved that force so powerful it would cut through the long cold winter nights and let her spirit dance within her.

Then they came to cull the growing fire, spitting at it, bit by bit adulterating its purity, its brightness, until at last, they doused the flame. For something so bright, so alive, so hot, so colourful, so passionate, so spicy, not understood, can be a dangerous thing.

Now herself guardian of the flame, groomed by her captors, scared, scarred, abused and blamed, the light lies dormant in its chamber, barely radiating heat. Just enough to keep alive, dampened by responsibilities while sleep deprived eyes look out onto the grey mundane street with its neatly trimmed hedges, passersby throwing glances through the windows as careless as they scatter their opinions on the pavement.

Sometimes she tries to escape, raging at the small, the unimportant matters, the sweet children who don’t understand.

Sometimes she looks for it, yearning for its heat; in the bottle of hot sauce perhaps, as if the burning sensation might make up for the blandness that has encroached itself as a grey tone instagram filter over her life.

Sometimes it creeps up and grabs her by throat, weighing heavily upon her chest, muting her voice.

Life, however, is not bad, by external eyes viewed, entitled even.

No need to go into that now; it’s the guardian speaking, the controller of the flame.

But she has got it all wrong, it’s not her fault, though how do we allow her to see that she is not guardian of the flamelet but keeper of the fire, destined to build its heat, add the colour, throw in the spices, hot, burning, almost uncomfortable in its searing heat. 

Inward moving out not outward blocking the inside flame

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