We trip and fall so easily into old habits.
I never thought it would go this far,
And I never knew I’d miss you like a limb.
Like a campfire slowly dwindling,
I want to stir up your hot coals again,
Give this life for longer;
And although I know that grasping you will blister and scar me from the pain
My fingertips long to be burnt
By something too vast to hold in my hands.
© mjc 17 December 2015