A wait

7th February, 2009

I saw a fire shivering,
in that biting cold,
as she continued heating night,
itself being on threshold,
of dying,
in a wait,
of that sun which would,
have her completely burnt,
embracing all her err,
when her painful thorny flames,
would not be considered,
and he'll expend her,
into his rays immortal,
when she'll lie,
like a bacchant unruffled,
in the warmest of the laps from the breath squeezing cold,
and not a single gap would detach,
their intermingled souls.