Fire Untouchable

Yours is a fire
untouchable: I am

aloft in your solar wind,
a soul adrift, not yet lost

or blind, but eyes averted
from the burning rise

of a dawn to my dusk,
of a shine to my rust;

through mirrors of time
we trace dangerous lines,

even your faintest of light
still deadly bright,

your touch an eclipse
so tempting, your lips—

all this at a glance,
and by what chance are we made

in the self-same image
of lovesickness's shade:

perhaps not now
but ever bound

to align as the heavens,
in each other find

yet a spark in this rain,
a meeting of the twain;

though now our paths still wander,
torches in vain,

bearing each of us
in old lanterns

only embers
of untouchable flame.