Are those sparks I see?
I think I’ve seen them before,
Those magical moments,
When life slows down
For you, and only you.
When possibilities of skipping heartbeats arise,
When breath fails you
When your eyes are locked
Hand entangled
And you are, finally, warm.
You wake up, though,
Only to find the company who cradled you,
Lost; like the sneaky night,
Which slipped away
Leaving you behind
For reality and the bitter world
To dawn upon you.
And it all happened behind shut eyes.
You were blinded by nature,
And you will be again.
Because it takes several sparks
Several tries and retries
To get a fire going.