My brother is a matchstick,
with his head all aflame.
He is a pyromaniac,
and slightly insane.
But if he is a matchstick,
I'm the little match girl.
I'd strike him just to watch
him bring his light into the world.
When you get him going,
he can be hard to snuff.
And when he starts seeing red,
he can't quite say "Enough!"
Yes he's a singular sort of soul,
and I guess it could be said,
that he has a 'Tongue of Fire',
and is kind of a 'Hot Head'.
All jokes aside,
he's earned this name.
For I've seen his coal-eyes
transfixed upon a flame.
He sits there to watch it burn,
and it sets his face aglow.
Something inside the heat,
sets a fire in his soul.
The fire doesn't know someone's there-
it only brightens and dims.
My Matchstick is the same way,
he doesn't realize that I study him.
He can be dangerous,
or a comfort in the cold.
And though I worry for that future wife,
when it's all said and told-
The thing I love most about him,
the best thing to feel and see,
is how he starts a fire
in me.
