She took a look at the cold body,
Left for dead,
With very little warmth left in her.
A small touch sent heat flooding all over Her body,
She introduced Her to the others,
They slowly bringing Her warmth,
She had many sources of warmth that she did not look upon and did not know she could use,
She looked to and trusted Her.
Her was always very grateful to share the warmth she had left with She.
She found other friends,
And Her was terrified.
The Others only took Her light with no remorse,
She had never ventured far from her,
But to her, it was endless miles.
To Her, it was scary.
To Her, her match was the only source of light she could find,
Her fingers lighting up the match almost daily while taking it across her thighs,
To Her, She was nothing but a dream of light,
A dream that could never come true,
She looked at Her and shared the matches and burns She had too,
The two had enough warmth to live on.
Enough warmth, most people would die for.