I can feel
the warmth of
a new
blaze,
a small flame
that's been
lit
between us.

Not you, nor I,
not a fire with
out the other
dissolving, slowly,
the wick

if a small fire that needs nurtured is
what love is,
then call my hands
a governess to
always nurse
the burn
of new love's
flush

as long as you're
reddened in the smoke-
path, then my darling,
this is fine
by me.