Fire

I strike

a match

and it flares

bright.

*

It dances

as it quickly

burns through

the stick,

the heat slowly

warming,

then burning,

my finger.

*

Unlike with

water,

where you know

it keeps you alive,

you know that

these flames

could burn you

alive.

*

It’s dangerous.

Uncontrollable.

It can kill

without mercy,

just like water,

only much more

unpredictable.

*

But that’s

not our first

thought, not

usually.

*

Instead, we think:

*

It can be

gentle, comforting

and keep me

warm.

*

It can melt the

marshmallows

for my s’mores

and brighten

the darkness

during my

camping.

*

It can cook

my food, boil

my water, and keep

me feed.

*

As much as it

could kill me,

I only need to

be cautious

with it,

although,

even then,

it still might

end me.

*

Because

just as much

as it could kill me,

it could

save me,

too.

*

Much like

its rival.