I’m that rocket ship,
Drifting through the black.
I ran out of fuel
About a month back.
Then a force comes
And I start moving on.
Didn’t know to fight it;
Not that I had the brawn.
The glorious light came over,
My horizons previously dark.
Your soft, but hot passion,
To which I embark.
What a change from yesterday
Or the weeks before that.
So why try to stop it?
Or even move to combat:
The heat now searing;
Her inescapable field.
“This is good,” I tell myself,
“I can let my head be healed.”
So hot
The fire burned.
So stupid
To let down my shield.
So hard
My twilight returned.
Too fast
My heart wheeled.
©simplicity
S