New love – white hot and ravenous,
gasping air as reason struggles.
Oh – ardor of flambé;
sweet still, in flame’s repose.
Though a dance once tangoed - waltzes
…just a caress, old embers spark.
25 May 2020
HEXASTICH IT Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
Copyright © david mohn | Year Posted 2020
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