It is these embers that I feel spite
Borne of the fire fuel’d by due diligence
Oftentimes float past my skin
Glimmer with whimsy as they do not touch
Yet when they do I am tempted to dive
I want you to be unhappy
For what love you withheld;
I want you to change back
For you aren’t what I loved;
There are no others.

These pass as a sting to my flesh but a moment
Heat remains only as an afterthought
I will recall purple skies and shoulder teardrops.
I will recall pianos and construction sites.
My spite is human - but its passing is humane.