Well, we are not forever,
As we hurtle toward oblivion,
Stealing a few moments,
In this life’s cruel exhibition.
A momentary lapse of reasoning,
Is all it would take,
To drop that spark,
On the passion’s conflagration!
Slammed together, a tangle of,
Limbs and frantic embrace.
The rip of tearing fabric,
And engulfed in gasping breaths.
The searing echoes, phantom touch,
Etched in our memory,
Preserving the salts and frenzy,
In the wombs of eternity.
With stolen sips of desire,
A warmth for memory!
Bittersweet vintage sipped,
When life grants clemency!
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