What Was

I think that we were hot once We felt the sparks, you were my flame And your leather couch goes “squish and “crunch” Now I can barely conjure your name He caresses, she undresses Slipping down to almost nothing Indulging in our excesses (but as usual I digress) I might’ve thought it then, But not quite sure you’d call it loving Some empty, lonely spaces never can be filled And be sure to never cram them with the wrong stuff All things must find their end, no matter how they thrill I’d grown tired of it all and had enough When the blush is off the bloom And the petals fade and fall No sense in trying to exhume What was never anything at all I think that we were hot once But the pyre reduced to embers And your leather couch goes “squish” and “crunch” But that’s all I can remember