I saw you, throwing flames at things that shine.

You could have hit the fence and set the neighbor’s car up in smoke, instead of the dynamite

sticks I hid within my glass heart. It fragmented like a smashed bottle of vintage wine—

 A silencing array of collateral damage, like a black hole swallowing fighting planets. 

You adorned the beach with carnage stars, painting the sea with burgundy-gleaming brine.