“Like Pain I can only Write about” – Poem

Like two flames

That extend overhead,

Above my head,

Above your own,

It is our pain.

It is laced in the wine, from our mouths,

From your kisses, drunken upon its source

Being from our souls.

Our sins,

Without the guilt we did share,

Like one bottle, emptied of drink,

Emptied of sips,

Without the touch of our lips.

We are both in pain,

And it dances like the Northern Lights,

Like overhead flashes,

Above our amorous minds,

Where touches matter little,

Because they sting.

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