Today I awoke, half-eaten by a stubborn flame that cannot die though long the coal departed; I lay here broken-hearted, like it was yesterday she said she needs me not before she fled as times before, though yearning and every time returning. I wonder as the months go by her lodging, and the reason why she bore it all, untethered then left me just her feathers and the most pretty memory for my diurnal reveries assuring, to be clear, to me she’s dying to be near and yet dreams of returning, to quench me, ‘til then burning.