A flame and an ignited match

He loves me and he’s wild about me.

I swear to God that he, only he could save me.

Either from sadness or sickness.

He smells like fresh rain from the dawn; the summertime breeze rolling lazily through his hair.

He observes nature, and though he does not like philosophy he analyzes nature philosophically.

I have never seen such a man so content and yet so worried that sometimes I worry that his heart will burst into flame.

But I remember that you were and are my flame and I am just an ignited match.