The Sun

I want to talk to the sun.
I want somebody to understand me,
to think everything I say has meaning.
I swear I’m close to the sun’s fire
with the lit end of my cigarette
wavering dangerously close to my face.
I stub it out, light another.
if i focus on the light,
one day i'll find it ignited in myself
and i won't feel so cold.
and when i'm friends with the sun i won't be alone.