Little flame in a glass jar, contained.
Dancing, reaching –
Dark center empty, fueling bright.
Eyes changed, reflect;
Half closed, blur rays.
Stillness of the room receding.
Home.
Little flame in a glass jar,
The heart of its space.

The same little flame caught without grace climbs up a curtain and consumes the space burns with a furry and picks up the pace growing and spreading from place to place smoke choking and deep rumbling roar crackling blistering heat until the only choice is escape from the heart of one little flame no longer contained.

Ashes, dark and cinder smell.
Crumbling deep grey
Whisping away.
Only the smell remains.

Little flame,
It’s best you stay contained.