A new kind of theft

I am trampled on snow,

You take a piece of me wherever you go.

A fragment dragged from the sole of your shoe,

My shape changed, no longer new.

A smooth surface with a gaping hole,

I wear your imprint like a scar.

Unable to fill the spot where you left,

A piece is gone, a new kind of theft.


My love is for the flames,

The height and the heat in exchanging names.

The settled debris,

Never a sight for me.

Until you came along; a new kind of fire,

The blaze in my heart, never been higher.