I burned a pair of sofas that were rotting in a barn. The fabric was worn and dry. When it caught fire, it was engulfed in minutes. Red, hot, and overwhelmed with the smell of mildew. It burned for an hour; we kept the flames back with pond water. Ten feet back, and the heat seared the hair of my arm. It was a cold day, but we were sweating. I stroked your arm for the first time. Your fresh skin was smooth and soft. When I felt your lips, I lost myself in seconds. Delicate, warm, and inviting to my wondering tongue. We sat on the bed for an hour or two; and entertained ourselves with magic tricks. I pressed up against you, and the heat hit my chest. It was a cold night, but we were sweating.