Among the Rubble

A hot and heavy beginning,

blinded by the flames.

I didn’t feel the intense burn

of our fiery passion.

Torrid days flowed into

steamy nights.

As the weeks turned to months,

our flames dwindled down

to glowing embers,

comfortable and warm

in the soft, flickering light.

But, eventually, without kindling

our embers smouldered.

What remained was just

ash and char,

crumbling in my hands.

I sifted through the rubble,

all I found was a faded memory

of what once was.

A hazy, distant recollection

of better times.

But sometimes,

in the dead of night,

I still feel the

scar tissue

burning.