One Single Impression: Rekindle

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Rekindle

She sits huddled in the cold
It's getting darker outside
Can she rekindle the flame
Her lover is lost, long gone

He had been the world for her
A tender hand on her waist
Melding lovers' salty lips
Spontaneous combustion

A passion fueled by their love
Embers hot and bright, crimson
But the flame died when he strayed
No longer warmed, chills abound

His return she prays to God
With pockets full of matches
Lord knows he'll never return
She sits there still in the cold

By the fire that's in her mind

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© 2013 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved

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