So Much to Gain

What happened, my fire?—the attic filled with flames. I pause—

A reflection, and haunt a mirror. A woman speaks—fraught

With wounds. I fall apart—the miracle. And my blood to

Boil—rhapsodic. Measure the friction—aloof—to perish.

Death consumes, and passion dies. Bless the love, my heart:

Afflict not—the joy. For such perfection—fraught with scars;

And such affection—pleading mercy. Her beauty, an ocean

Deep: such a brilliant mind. Her glitter—gold, the wings of

Heaven. We dine invisibility, careful to capture prayer. I

Venture—the love—aflame—a kiln of hearts. Thus, the gates,

A psychic sword; and such aesthetic, a desecration. But ache

The vision, a series of classics; and heart the vision, a world

Of gems. What happened, my fire?—the attic filled with flames.

I pause—a reflection, and haunt a mirror.