nostalgia's in the fire place
for us it's always been true
working on our own efface
into the depths of you
so tiny and so beckoning
make a peep and it could vanish
balanced on my little wing
into a spread of famish
one deep gust and it's alive
a flame that breathes and snaps
mantle like a highway mile
clean slate for dirty scraps
the secrets do burn eagerly
quick to resign this exhausted life
permanent, thought tenderly
no alternative, thought strife