Dear flaming and wild heart,
Flashes from our past, used to ease my pain.
Bitter sweet memories I treasured...
The privilege of being yours…
When in your arms I felt at home…
When our magic was so powerful…
Have we really lost it for eternity?
Your dried roses are bleeding.
You are here now but…
They still scream out for our story, for our flame.
Why do we have these vicious winds haunting us?
If you only knew how much I wish...
At least your heart is still beating...

© Christina Philipe