mysterious why I
worship the sun?
I too can't resist
being the center
of attention.
I too exist to fuse
the littlest things into
less wieldy objects,
even though I know
that will soon
present a problem.
I too am content
to have lifelong
dependents
and too eager
to let them confuse
heat with passion,
light with
understanding,
warmth with love.
I too have
never questioned
my reason for being.
I too don't ever sleep,
consumed by this
need to burn things.
