Warmth has long abandoned these hands
and in its absence, the memories advance
of careful laughs, a guarded smile
reluctant kiss, polite demands
A gentle touch, calculated and rare,
An invisible string and ever the puppet, I dance.
The pulsing embers of a scorching heart,
brighter still than any emotion I hoped to extract
from your sweet, possessive smoke which, at the start
I mistook for devotion
and held in through the sudden impact.