When Fire Meets Water, Silence Remains 🔥
by Crissy Bliss Addams
I am fire.
You are water.
We touched, and for a moment,
the world shimmered in steam.
It was fleeting,
but it was beautiful.
I did not mean to wound you.
I only burned the way
my nature insists.
You did not mean to drown me.
You only flowed the way
your tides demand.
We were never built to last—
fire cannot live submerged,
water cannot endure the blaze.
Even oil and water
cannot stay together,
though they shine for a moment
when the light hits just right.
Yet I am grateful
for the rare alchemy we made,
for the wonder of our collision.
Now I release you.
Carry your rivers forward.
I will carry my flame.
No return, no regret—
only thanks
for the brilliance of what was,
and peace in knowing
we were never meant to stay.
Author's note:
In cold autumn I seek lavender-scented saunas and warm indoor pools: heat to sustain me, water to swim in, but never to stay. I don't wanna get pruney, LOL
Lavender Steam
by Crissy Bliss Addams
Outside, the wind is cold.
The world exhales
and I step into cedar silence,
into the womb of heat.
The sauna breathes around me,
lavender rising with the steam—
a soft, purple veil
draped across my skin,
smoothing the edges of thought.
The warmth itself becomes my covering,
a cloak of fire without fabric,
a garment only your body can know.
Each bead of sweat
is a memory leaving,
a grief dissolving,
a wound unstitched by warmth.
The wood creaks like an old hymn,
the stones hiss like secrets
too heavy to hold.
I am fire contained,
flame without destruction,
burning only for myself.
Autumn presses against me,
but here, I glow—
skin flushed,
veins singing,
heart steady in lavender fog.
No rivers to drown me,
no tides to pull me under.
Only heat,
only breath,
only me.
And when I leave,
the night will be colder,
the air will bite harder,
but I will carry this ember inside—
a quiet blaze,
a lavender flame,
the glow of self,
sustained and whole.