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
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
I’m craving the sweltering, burning, fiery
Where has it gone?