That Summer Day, you and I
Met for the very first time
Singing songs of heat and passion
We caught on like fire against fuel
The hot skin of your bare hands
Touching my cheeks and burning it
Slowly, steadily, straightforwardly,
I Inhale the tender flame of your existence.
Seasons have passed and now it’s winter.
We’re cold, dark, freezing; the fire burnt out
As I exhale the cruel ashes of our past
You watch on, weeping with flesh and soul.