Embers and Snowflakes
You are a flame licking me, aflame
with crimson fire of desire,
and crimson-crackly is the air tonight
alight and bright as the candle
that burns like our passion
but fades in the soot-stench of dawn...
embers grown cold, the incense of morning
making no sense, and left bleak inside
with a grey hollow mourning.
Ashes in the grate
grate on tenebrous threads of fate.
You are a thought brushing me, wisps
of winter snowflake-soft,
and white-blinding is the light
alight and bright as the candle
of love that slowly burned out...
fading like melting snow on the garden,
light sifting and churning,
the grey urn of morning
holding ashes of mourning.
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