Each Time, Love
Fire
Within lies vibrant darkness
Layers beneath layers
Waiting for the light
At once shines the sun
At the perfect moment
Layers dark no more
Color like fire burning
The smell of fullness
Breeds passion, and then
Edges wet no longer
Color pales or deepens
Memory consumes passion's flower
Water
Unseen and unexpected
Small fibers meaningless
By seeming chance intersect
Winds chill bare flesh
At the perfect moment
Perception of the weave
Warmth like mother's bosom
The sensation of softness
Breeds contentment, and then
Edges slowly unravel
Patterns fray or fade
Memory consumes comfort's blanket
One
Shrunk and wilted
Cold and hardened
Memory consumes happiness
The smell, the sensation
Once bright never brighter
If memory may be trusted
Trust not, you who despair
This time but forgotten
Forego selfish pain
There are many tastes
For those who have tongues
But to each only one tongue
One taste new
Each in its turn
At each perfect moment
Let love be
