Who or what do you hold accountable for the day the warm light began to shift and slide wanting to find an exit from the place it was nestled inside your eyes when was it that the lift of butterfly’s wings was no longer allowed referenced to the sweep of your lashes against your soft cheek were you two perhaps just finding your way outside the small circle of your mothers arms or further-on a teenager perhaps you made it to and an innocent child next to you in class took a precious gleam from you with an innocuous one word upon another meant to make their compadres giggle but landing like a sword on point upon your head it is a wonder to me to see what power can be lashed to one moment and what devilish turn can be attributed to a quick flick of one persons thought let lose against the realm of all potential where does it take us when the intended has long forgotten the meaning if there ever was one implied as we live it out within and it becomes the melting of warmth that was intended to set the world on fire is it now time the day to pick up the match that you fear may burn your finger tips but alas is meant to relight that long extinguished flame you’ve hidden there behind your eyes