molten gold

This discusses a conglomeration of some of my wants of life as well as my fear of reaching for, getting, and losing them (separately).

like molten gold
with its glimmer in my eye
whether wrapped round my finger
or not i ask why
but maybe itll burn
if it touches my hand
then i shiver from the cold
but which one means im no man?
do i fear what i want?
or do i fear want itself?
maybe i fear its loss
or being too short for the shelf
are just my pupils jaundiced?
am i doing something wrong?
is it "normal"
for me to flee
from that for which i long?

Author's Note

opinions welcome