Matchmaker
I am the source of all the old flames,
all the torches you carried;
for the fireworks that flew,
and the bridges you burned,
I am to blame.
Those smoldering looks,
fresh-kindled passions
ignited in the dark
and hastily smothered.
Another spark struck
from that little black book.
They each set your thoughts ablaze,
devouring tongues
which licked and flickered at your feet
and rose with the heat.
They brought warmth and light
to the darker days.
