The Brave

We fall upon each other at admitted winter’s end,

while Spring is but a rumor, its embrace a dated myth,

sans childish dreams of amor and the blindness of

reckless bliss,

daring to embrace a burning want,

that ruin attests no longer exists.

With eyes at first squeezed and fixed,

against what this inviting blaze could be,

we let our dampened hearts be warmed,

to a ruled, yet, nisus steam,

into a hope stirred and eagerly waken,

into blushing ember coals of need,

We surrender headlong one to windswept other

and shed our heavily remembered robes,

laying challenge to malicious whispers,

that past lovers lodged within our souls,

to brave nakedly the promises of a romantic’s boundless hope,

and lay forever to rest what were once our eternal ghosts.

And we love.