Love is a warm misunderstood guilt
that floats below a bridge of flammable dreams.

To cross,
jump and swim
there has been no other way.

Walk then if you can,
crawl if you must,
into the thousand brewing mirages.
Each withholds a memory, recycled,
for love is to remember and never forget.

For the faint hearted:

Phoenixes are extinct,
in this sea of fire.

SB