I awake to the gentle touch of a light breeze

And with it, a little spark

Like a butterfly

It follows the wind and alights on me

Pulsing orange

Flickering

Catching

Lighting

It burns inside of me

So fragile and delicate

So capable of burning me away

So capable of igniting the furnace of passion within me

Should I squash you or feed you?

What will you become, little spark?