Come here, my floating feather.
Sit here; at my thigh,
for a while.
And I promise not to move,
or capture you.
Don't be scared, you pretty little thing.
I know, life doesn't treat you well.
Yes, I know. The world is a dark place.
But my love,
I'd be your fireplace wood.
Believe me,
I'd brighten your world.
Wait! Don't fly away yet.
I'm not asking you to be mine.
No, sweet love.
I understand,
that you are a hurricane of fire
and I, only a moth.
Destined to be destroyed.
Come here, my blazing bonfire.
Let me embrace your flame,
while you consume me.
And, even in this last breath
my sweet love,

I smile.