Burned

Just as the lonely moth adrift in darkness Drawn equally to candle, hearth, and pyre Is startled by the unforgiving heat And learns to fear the flames it would admire So too do I, who burned too many times Retain in me a weariness and fear That urges me to always hold at length The very things I most long to keep near Passion flares too brightly to be trusted Red and raw and scorching to the touch Fast and fleeting, bright as an inferno Both not enough and always far too much Give me love which simmers like the embers Of a fire, that’s burned down to the coals With veins of red still bright within the ashes Just hot enough to keep away the cold