15.12.07

one of my earliest memories
is of seeing a candle lit above the shine of the sienna carpet

i know nothing about its purpose or context
it is just something to me--the mystery of a flame
whose heat i've yet to know

it is winter and outside is cold

cold i know
cold is what my fingers felt when
my mommy slammed them in the door
before church because we were in a hurry

i want to feel this flashing fire
who beckons me with its dance
i'm only a baby and i'm still protected

but nothing stopped me from gingerly touching the flame with my fingertips
and i don't remember what happened further than that