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...

...yet.

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.