You touched me
and my soul was on fire
fire that burned through promises
through priorities,
through to passion itself
It was a fire of destruction,
breaking me away
from him -
burning a path back to you
And then, you became a wall of stone -
hands raised against me -
you looked away.
You are the only one
You are the last one
You are the whole of desire
You are the soul of the fire. . .
and I come to you again
you look away
What makes a stone so hard
that was once fire?
You'll burn again, won't you,
when I touch you?
and blaze your path of destruction
back to me?
- Feb. 16, 1987, A.D.
