there are two fires in the fire,
this bonfire of pain I must avoid
by no longer seeing you.

two fires, one my shame,
the other my love.
I must avoid the love which
seeing you fuels.

for my shame burns the brighter,
and thus it's worth avoiding.

until this love for you that shames me
sizzles and subsides to smoke.

such love leaves burn scars,
dim-bright embers that itch
on occasion, when alone.

when will we feast on handfuls
of the ash my love has burned
of me, as friends? again.

I'd like to make spanakopita then.