Before the Fire
I remember when our love was simple
a preamble to the heart tremble and the gods' gamble
when we didn't owe each other anything and our artistry meant everything,
we were free of hope and suffering, living on the feeling of belonging to love rising,
We made a lexicon of lightening and splendor of thunder
rendezvoued in the sharp rain of rage and grew gold roses in rebel's plunder,
taught truth not to bet on beauty but to bite into the meat of rugged reality, to taste our mettle,
you became the priestess of my noetic eyes, and I, the priest of your poetic pain, we were miracle -
J.A.B.
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