Fingers and the Flame

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Not so long ago,
thinking I could catch a flame,
I cupped my hands around a burning candle.
It licked my skin with laughter and rage
like fires do
and I pulled away,
Singed and maimed
my fingers sore
prey of wild heat,
I swear I heard that fire chuckle-
“Silly girl.
‎nature has no owner.
It snaps and bites
and lashes out
without a care for those around it.”
So I looked upon my hands blistered and red
and knew
sweet fire had taught me well
a lesson made just for
girls like me
with open minds
and curious fingers.

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