Let love not be just an impassioned flame
Dark like charcoal in a matter of days
Fleeting birds escaping, his misled aim
Something so exaggerated in plays
Through an ever looming warmth, a fine air
Marked by wine and flowers, jewels and hours
One wishes to keep close and heart fair
But stings of suicide, leaps off towers
Sublime feelings, internal coiling
Love, presumed antidotes and poisons
Delectable raptures, hearts toiling
Rippling through bloodstreams, lustrous oceans.
Triangles, flirts, and unapproved soft croons
A reason to savor long afternoons.