Sonnet 14
A fire needs three elements to start:
a heated place, a thing to burn, and air.
If this is so, the heat within my heart
I stoke for you might foster fires there.
And though a wintry mind I aim to keep,
my thoughts are quite combustible in truth;
I’m weakest when I lack a proper sleep
or thirst to waste this chaos we call youth.
And as for air, my blood flows through my lungs
as well as heart and head. The final touch
is any spark: a word flipped off a tongue
too carelessly or when I know too much
of things that I should not. It’s then I light
and, all too often, smolder through the night.
