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She struck the match upon the box

And sparked a tiny flame

It sparkled and spat and glowed in gold

And thus, began the game

She twiddled the tiny piece of wood

Between her fingertips

Exhilarated by the danger

She tucked the match between her lips

She watched the tiny fire

At the end of the tiny stick

She felt the heat beat on her cheek

As it crawled towards her lip

She felt her heart beat faster

She wanted to feel its kiss

Danger beckoned, but in the last second

She spat it from her lips

It landed on the ground before her

She watched it die in the grass

It shrank down to a spot of blue

And then everything went dark

She suddenly felt alone, and sad

As she mourned her fiery friend

So she simply selected another match

And started the game again...

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