Torch

“Would you accept it like a torch?”

I would, and light my way
through caverns dark and deep.

I would, and know this tiny lighter’s flame
can’t keep me from bumbling
through paths, self-same,

that I have tried again and over
to refrain from striding down.

I would accept it like a torch,

holding still until the glow unstows no certainty

and charred bitter ends leave darkness

blackening my fingertips –

and then I’d, after wiping ashen fingers

on my apron’s hips,

reach a digit out to mark your bottom lip.

I would accept it if you told me to,

Pausing not for chivalry

Or wasting breath to ask –