Little flame with no name, are you and I one and the same?
Little fire, take me higher, I bite at ankles all the while I preach to the choir.
Tiny embers, will you help me remember flesh so tender, nights of wild amorous satiation and splendor?
Ashes on the floor, can you take me back to what I now remember as before, back to those days where my heart was yet to be sore, where I could handle everything and a bit more?
Sprouting tree, will you be the memory of me?