The little cream stub

In a pool of its own flesh

It burns and burns

Letting the flame scorch down its chest

The fire flickers it’s shadow on the wall

It watches in solitude it’s inevitable fall

A dip and a curve

And a lean to the side

It shrinks

And shrinks

As the flame tears up its inside

From a hard shell to a soft encasing

The fire feeds on its downfall

On its slow, slow end

Until there is nothing left

But a pool of sweat

Nothing to mark its suffering