…is upon me again

Here in my desolation the silence of the flames
that once bound us in dangerous harmony
is of no consequence, yet the distance between us
provides no relief from the agony of parting
for they still burn, these flames of ours
deep inside of me, in places from which there is no escape
invisible to prying eyes and their heat still radiates
like a summer sun in the depths of winter
they melt the frost and the snow
dissolving them into rivers that flow through my veins
reawakening my memories, reigniting my pain
pulling me backwards again and again
to realms I have deserted, to the heart that I have forsaken
and now once more I am drowning in the endless longing
that lives deep inside of me where only you can ever see
the flames revived unwittingly
in an effort to break free I open myself to the light of the moon
her cool veils surround me like a cloak
as the whispers of the night
speak louderthan the rising hiss of the fire
the fire that has taken hold and is now burning
like a lighthouse in the darkness signalling the returning
the cycle repeating, I love you, I love you not
the poetry of pain is upon me again
every line whispers the things I want to hear
and every stanza carries me closer to the flames
the flames that call to me, the flames that I fear
the flames in which I ache to disappear
© Ann Bagnall