A stream bubbling through the desert;
Just a breath of hot air and it vanishes into the sand.

One kiss to heat the heart to flames,
Yet the body is mostly water.

To hold so delicate a golden butterfly, this fragile monarch.
The hand that opens loses and the hand that closes crushes.

I'm given boots to walk the tightrope.
Narrow is the string, but I don't have far to fall.