A small flame twinkles

it flickers as the wind blows

in the darkness—it rests

it has your name written all over

I had buried it deep

long ago, in the hope

its light would cease

to burn me

that time would turn it

into ash too

as it does to everyone

and everything

yet it is there

as new as it had been

the day I buried it

and its soot has turned

my heart black.