Tuesday, August 2, 2011

the unique business of serving the flame that taunts your hand to quench it

At the brittle edge of your reality, I breathe in deeply.
You are far from me, 
but I know you like you are me.
Resilient.  Conspicuous. 
You’d give yourself to contrast before your intended purpose.
Fame belongs to the fire who burns alone in the dark.
Dancing violently; competing with your own shadow.
movement declaring independence a thousand words could not contend with...
all without regard for the wick you’re bound to;
without acknowledgement...
...that you are a warmth that belongs to a source,
and you serve a purpose that has little to do with that shadow.

How easily you forget the way your beauty illuminates a room.
How quickly you’re drawn away by a darkness rendered in the light you’ve become.
You are a fire on my skin, just like you are on that wick.
Your nature does not change;
Your aftermath does not concern you...
But I am a fabric that you have not yet set fire;
licking my flesh to tire its resolve.
Defending yourself, you’ve made way for your performance,
but forfeited the beauty of just light;
just existence.
Striving to free your unmanageable form,
you’d burn down this room if it’d prove your point.
You are unprecedented potential; 
made to do more than flicker.
But the splendor of your longing has diminished you in its grandeur;
beautiful fire, fighting to have value.
I would not put you out, no matter how you taunt my flesh.
No matter how you believe it is the inevitable end.
You matter to me...more than you know.
I do not remain here because I have seen you;
but because it is by you that I’ve seen everything else.
It is by you..in you, flame I uphold, 
that I see even myself.
You are my light in my darkness,
not a shadow maker.
You’re a comfort in my silence,
you do more than fight for your life.
And to think...just in your being.
Not in your doing.
This is a unique business, serving you;
and hold you I will,
until you see what you are.

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