What do you mean, inanimate? Obviously, all of the objects around my house speak and converse with me on a near-constant basis! And always through the medium of song.
In actual answer to the original prompt:
Fire Staff,
I love you.
I made you with my bare hands, cut the kevlar for your wick and cut my hands fastening your bolts. I labored over you for days and I poured my heart and the brightness in my eyes into you. You have danced and spun and sung with light with me for years. You are ever-faithful, an extension of movement's sound, flowing from me on an outstretched arm. You dance with me in instinctual sync, as you always have. Laden with power, light as a feather, you transition from spring sun to burning night with grace and efficiency. Uncovered, untaped, you are a shining jewel and you communicate your every motion with perfect speed.
You make me happy, let's go light shit on fire.
~Anna