Hot

 

Your distance is farther than miles

and your warmth is nearly diminished.

There used to be this fire

blazing and soaring

it couldn’t be controlled

too wild for anyone to take reigns.

Maybe time makes fire still.

Maybe months calm the fire and the passion down

and all we have left is a quiet

cool

comfort.

With the absence of heat

the heat which I long for

I feel my nerves start to vibrate

shaking my ribs and collar.

I’m so cold.

My fingertips are losing color

finding blue.

I’m craving the sweltering, burning, fiery

devotion.

Where has it gone?

 

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