By: Gregory Orr
To add to our own suffering
To the world's: tempting
When we're young,
Easy to confuse that
With love.
As if
The beloved desired
Our sacrifice, wanted
Us to be the moth
Impaling itself
On the candle's radiant
Thorn.
We'd only
Smother the flame.
What the beloved wants
Is to burn more brightly
To have more life.
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