Ashes Of Desire

Sitting here in the ashes of our sexual burnt out fire,

Something that was big in the peak of our desire,

Sexually for filling uncontrollably hot sex,

no one foreseen what would become of us two next.

Passion was high,

we passed over our record peak,

Maybe too many notches in just one week.

Like all fires that rage eventually we burned out,

now there’s nothing but cold ashes to mark,

just what our love was, and is no longer about.

Once our flame burned hot,

we knew how to make each other sweat,

now we’re a memory, gone,

a longing of sexual hot regret.

I can still feel where your hands once stayed,

not soft, not slow,

but certain,

like you knew exactly how far to go.

My body remembers before my mind allows it,

a quiet stirring beneath the calm,

a restless echo,

of nights that never asked to be gentle.

We lost ourselves in that hunger,

fed it without thinking,

gave it everything it asked for,

until there was nothing left to give.

Now I sit in what remains,

not broken,

not whole,

just aware of what heat can take when it leaves.

and a haunting memory I will never forget.

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