The burner and the blackout crave¹ you： pilot

    of heat， purveyor² of the innocent

    candle and cigarette， light we tamed

    then fed to the night. Cupped， inviolate³，

    a winter moth⁴， a prayer we never sent

    away， you live in seconds what we name

    a life， a sudden cleansing⁵. You Prometheus

    come as toothpick， the false fire lent

    to our fingertips， lightbulb of the lame⁶

    idea： may your phosphorus forgive us，

    old flame.