The Flux of Love

My love, our flame has scorched the sky. And subtle waves
Prick the soul. Thus alert, a rhythmic kiss; and thus alive, a
Hint of bliss. But spirit slain, a metric death, a fallen soul, a
Fragile breath. Thus the pulse, a rapid beat, a tender ache, of
Deep defeat. And constant flux, a growing flame, a cryptic
Dance, of love and pain. Thus the heart, a mystic chant, a
Brilliant web, a silent pant. And depth the soul, a diamond
Scar, a burning light, a wounded star.

Thus the core, a touch of grief, a vibrant sore, a blotted reef.
And depth the heart, a rising flame, the face of love, despite
The pain. Thus afflicted, a fractured dream, a tattered soul, a
Sacred stream. And zenic flux, aflame the core, deep despair,
And constant war. Thus the soul, a wounded dove, the ache of
Light, and wounded love.