THE PORT

She just loves feeding the mist in the flames. She waits in the dim light of her domain so cozy and warm. So cozy and warm that every ship that passes by her port would want to stop and anchor a while. A while at least if not for long. A while would be enough to make one`s clouded obscurity passes by in shimmering white so pure. So pure in white that none who passes by her port wouldn`t be mesmerized. Tonight we watch the dances of the mist in flaming wonder until we subconsciously sleep.