To a Deep Red Flame

[kyra_ojosverdes]

My darling, baby, it's been done before.

Your incandescent passion, crimson love.
Your web of hims and hers and thems and yours.
Your tendrils of desire, your vines of need.

Sweet darling, baby, it's been done before.

Your interest ebbs soon as it's in your grasp
and when the distance grows you want it more.
The grass does seem much lusher, over there.

But darling, baby, it's been done before.

Your life's a whirl of loves and loss and loves.
Your eyes flash with the fire that's at your core.
You think you'll dance forever, never dimmed.

My darling, baby, it's been done before.


-- 17 June, 2003


The line "darling, it's been done before" (spoken in a slightly condescending voice by one older, wiser, and more jaded) has been hanging in my brain for several days, wanting to be written into a poem. The topic of "why do we want what we don't/can't have" never seems to wear out, does it? I tried to use meter and rhyme without going all sing-songy. This time, I think I succeeded. ;-)