But that would also be a form of loss.
The oil investing the flame well beyond
the hope of your hungriest expectation,
until it seemed a thing that might live forever,
though we both knew that forever
is a word best etched in frost.
Yet we placed so much happiness in that warmth,
disregarding the sorrow that had dragged
so much progress from our years.
And we both said yes to comfort,
turning our backs upon the cold,
pretending, at least for a moment,
that it wasn’t our inevitable soldier.