Your name last night alighted on my phone
and gave my nightstand luminescent pride
re-lighting torches that within me shone
to brightly once, consumed themselves, and died.

The embers of my love, mocked by this light
re-grow themselves to match their history
engulfing me in flames as though by right.
the cost? My cost. She burns up all of me.

Incineration forced my smouldering hand
to grab the blameful spark of my desire
and as I grabbed this coal, this too hot brand
the light went out, you left me with my fire.
    
       and so let lesser hearts be swan or dove,
       the Phoenix is the spirit of my love.