Well, I wrote your name and burned it,
To see the color of the flame.
And it burned out the whole spectrum,
As if you were everything.
Mine just burned gold,
A normal flame.
I am not anything.
And all that I remember is the feeling of waking up.
We were kids, you were the sun to which my eyes would not adjust.
We were kids, I was a fountain.
You could never drink enough.
Something dies when you grow older,
But you do the best you can.