On a quest to understand intimacy, I rediscovered fire. No words, just fire. Like the one that gives birth to stars and new moons, like the one that makes astral bodies rapturously spin around each other for an -undefined- period of time. This alluring, ecstatic dance electrifies my body and stops my breath. I let it burn – deliberately, not being afraid to lose myself in this eerie bosom. I can easily afford to break my heart as I long for a broader one, one that generates impassioned anthems and attracts the real lovers of this world. I lustfully immolate my heart just to fuel the fire. Paradoxically, there's nothing new in this encounter but my alchemical reaction to it. I have known this burn since the beginning of time; always fearlessly commanded, always seductively shaped. The only affirmation is the present moment. A smell, a laugh, the heat that reaches eternity. Tangled palms that hold the heavens; enchanted words that burst into hymns. So, now I know that this kind of intimacy lives somewhere within this world and is what makes Utopia seem so tangible. Once truly fathomed is then the only one obtained nearly effortlessly, undeniably magnificently. Like if the night's put a fierce, everlasting spell on it: "Fire! Fire."