Our Passion

It’s not supposed to be that way,

you get older, the flames die.

Just sit there on the porch,

stare off into the regrets,

count the minutes toward death.

It’s not that way,

passion burns deep,

a small spark, 

ignites with a breath.

We stare not at regrets,

or count those last minutes.

We embrace,

holding one another,

becoming one,

as if it were the first.

Giving life,

to each other,

as our bodies mingle,

in the late afternoon sun.

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2 thoughts on “Our Passion

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