The ashes and the fire
My dearest love, my serene memory. I remember us. We loved the midnight hours, locked door and to be 3 am wild and free. The German Winter made us hold tighter and we drove blindly into the magic of love.
You were at the sweetest age, eighteen and brave. I was nineteen and we didn’t know. The strongest fire can fade to ashes. I found you in the Fall, we drank the new wines of Germany and we sang songs of Leonard Cohen’s at the small lake to the rising moon. You were filled with amorous need to feel and touch everything and I was falling in the darkness of your needs and wants.
I remember I whispered to you.
“My midnight dancing angel.
I love your barefoot feet moving to the songs playing lowly,
I love you so.
You are my muse and you…
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