Do you remember that hot summer night
we went out collecting
Fireflies by moonlight?
In a Mason jar, hundreds, maybe dozens
flashing, shining, searching for a mate.  
Afterward we made love
by their living candle light.
Even now, many years gone
I remember your body
like a long lost home.
The hotter our passion, the more they shined;
burning themselves out
in our rapture.
By morning they were dead;
a Mason jar of empty things,
like memories lesson for us now.