For Souf

Love,
how wild you have run!
How shamefully you have scorched and scorned me
to be outdone at last,
my greatest tearful joy

You make me weak,
week by week,
Ashes scatter my face,
Disguising patterns you trace.

Love is not a potted plant,
while my flame flickers,
your bonfire consumes cities.
I bring my flame closer, united,
We burn, one, incarnate.

I smile at the stars tonight,
these, cursed beings who define distance, do but desire
the fire.
Tonight, I do not question fuel,
I hang in shame at my fears,
Smiling through my tears,
I laugh at the jealousy of gods.
Oh mortal twinings are writing
the tapestry of divinity in flesh.

Love,
how wild you have run!
We run as one,
two fires blazing together,
with naught to burn but each other.
As flames leap and laughter,
forget all but the light,
we create forever.