light and fire, i am a little flame, in a small dark space, i am binding wind, feeling it tug back hair on skin, a fluttering smoking coal fighting to say anything close to 'hope' without the 'less' and i wish it wasn't so sad, so me, so much work to keep this little flame alive, and it is getting cold, it's been cold, but it really is now, and the spark so small, is it really so insignificant, i think i'm tired, tired and winded, i think i'm managing, i think i'm worried that this fire is more about me and if i look away, if i do anything out of the ordinary, if i do anything but wish and watch and wish that it'll be just a blink and end with a breath, even my own subtle cough, and woosh, it's all gone... ah, there,