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Love’s Story

I’m made of low desire;
I’m made of noble aim.
I’m like a spreading fire;
I’m like a steady flame.

I’m made of stark obsession;
I’m made of calming plan.
I cherish indiscretion
Yet weigh taboo and ban.

I burst past bonds of reason;
I advocate restraint.
My bones feel like they’re freezing
In fire, devil in a saint.

My seeming contradiction
Evolves each lustful day.
My love’s complex, not fiction;
Dusk’s scarlet, gold, and gray.
Posted 02/08/14
from Wildfire, Candleflame (Rose Alley Press, 2005)
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