I repeatedly imagine,
the day we meet again.
Will I approach you as foe,
or as an old friend?

I am still hurt by you,
yet a part of me doesn't care.
With time I understand,
of past reality, I am aware.

We were full of lust,
it was nothing more.
Our passion was strong,
of that I'm sure.

In my thoughts, I am clear,
it is not you that I desire.
I only wish to feel alive,
from the heat of that fire.