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I flew to him as though he was a sultry flame
and I a fragile moth, in need of warm affection.
I danced around him, this man without a name.
In his eyes I saw desire from my own reflection,
smoldering in me was the beast I could not tame.
I was aware of danger. I'd been burned before,
but offered my tinderbox and opened the latch.
With one ardent kiss the fire in me began to roar.
Passion was ignited with the first strike of a match.
One last time, I firmly promised myself. I swore.
Vows hold no guarantees. They're a simple token.
I felt the sting of my guilty conscience and cringed.
Pledges of love had been torn asunder and broken.
Condemned was I, for my wings had been singed,
and cried in lieu of words too grievous to be spoken.
I cannot deny my fate for sorrow had been earned.
I felt remorse, a scarred creature who remembers
the flaws within me, and the lesson I had learned.
Charred ashes were flying above crimson embers.
In a blazing fire, I watched as my tinderbox burned.
October 26, 2022
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Copyright © Jenna Logan | Year Posted 2022
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