You the Fire

Instead of just the dark gold flower 
blossoming as you cradle the cracked blue mug

as the sun imagines your vanishing point
and lifts his light above it, pink and healing

instead you are wishing 
that you might hold this moment all the day. 

So you delay a little more, read some poems aloud. 
Consonants snapped and rhythm consumed 

like it's fuel, and you the fire.