Flames She wanted the Fireplace; I didn?t. I was too practical (?in a rut,? she?d often comment). I?d sprung a leak early inour relationship; as I dug that rut to thither and nowhere, the Romance that appealed to her in the beginning,like antifreeze, spattered the trail?telling a sorry story to those who noticed. She noticed. There was little left to leak, little left to battle the cold and ice. The Fireplace came into my life like relatives, like things you know are coming whether you invite them or not?and there isn?t a damned thing you can do. I tried to maintain distance, keep a negative or neutral profile. But the Fireplace reacquainted me with a paradox: often the farther you distance yourself from something the closer you get to it. It malfunctioned,sooted the house. A misfit. That made it easy to relate to:the Fireplace misfired; I leaked romance. We became partners in malfunction. The partnership opened the window for an impatient winter wind-like revelation. It swept in: She wanted claim to warmth and affection. Need took her shopping; she saw something she liked; maybe she priced it, wonderedwhere she?d put it?what she?d have to throw out?almost bought it?didn?t?might. Alert and Fear?concerned parents?sat me before the Fireplace and said, ?Listen!?This is what I heard: Misfires and Romance Leaks often inadvertently manifest a spunky, Arcadian art: Defects take on intrinsic, stabilizing beauty. Malfunction can become the rescue dog that drags Function in through the ruts, cold, ice, snow. And even then we can?t give those we love everything we?d like to?everything they deserve. The Fireplace has new gaskets, an adjusted air shutter; it burns a lot better. And I?ve plugged my leak, salvaged some antifreeze. Maybe that?s enough?maybe not. I think of the Fireplace and me as young boys inept in aerodesign, who forever build flaw-spangled kites. But Love and Passion will always keep us clutching the string, running flat out into the wind. We?ll get our kites airborne. They?ll bounce and dip; they?ll soar; they?ll crash.She and I?somehow unlike in movies, magazines?make wild love in the warmth and flickering light of the Fireplace?s imperfect flames.