a fall night

Sitting by the fire, flames trickling with grey smoke, wood burnt red and popping as the heat intensifies. I relax my feet next to the cocoon wrapped heated stones that create a barrier for the fallen flickering flames of slivered wood. The warmth hugs me as i bundle up in my hoodie and continue to relax by lighting my cigarette.
I'm not alone, i can hear booze induced laughter and voices changing pitch with each creative story shared.
I feel alone by not engaging in conversation but i don't mind. I like it, i like that it doesn't bother anyone if i just sit to the side and become hypnotized by this dancing fire and all the comfort that it provides me.
My eyes become dry from lack of blinking. An intense red flamed light is still present even when i manage to blink or look away. This draws me even closer to the center of this ancient custom. My lips starve for some moisture. My face feels so tight from the lack of time i have spent away from the fire.
I can't help but feel empowered by this erotic display of visual movement. I just want to hop to my feet and dance around the fire shaking my hands in the air, skipping my steps with a high knee while occasionally putting in a twirl. I ask myself, would these people think that i have went crazy or maybe join me to invoke the night fire on this most beautiful night?