Flames
Our eyes are kindled with the careless spark of a sudden glance.
Few words are spoken, our eyes making a silent dialogue …
Invitation and consent.
Our passion-flame, vivid orange and blue-red,
Heating our blood until, like mulled wine,
It warm-flows.
Our wine-breath is warm and sweet,
Our mouths exchanging hungry kisses
Like greedy children.
Our bodies clinging to one another as if
Close to the precipice, we fear to fall.
Yet relish the thought of falling
In an ever-falling close embrace.
Too soon, from the scorch-blackened earth
Of frenzied and fiery lust
My Phoenix-fear arises.
Fear of engulfment, loss of control,
Guilty longings.
But the spark, the flame is gone.
Merely shadows and embers remain.
Too late.
Sudden strangers, you and I
June 1986
Copyright © Julie Medhurst | Year Posted 2017
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