Heat is the remnant of what has been
A response of chemical signals
It is merely radiant noise
the mind tells when it hates silence.
Light is the bringer of illusion,
reflecting of what might be
when what is has no gloss of its own.
We’re given passionate songs
and finger-spoken promises
that light and heat are love.
In truth, love is what happens
when the lights are off,
and shadows dance boldly nearer.
Love dances naked in the rain
despite frightening claps of thunder’s fury, and
love feels the surprising warmth
of teardrops on the flesh of your back, and
love does not quit, won’t be deterred, and
love understands that heat is not the ability
to warm the earth, but the ability to stand the cold, and
love can teach that bravery is not
the absence of fear but its conquest, and
love is always
when its your voice that must be found, and
love, my dear