Now that you have cremated my desired touch,
Love-ashes are tossed to the four winds.
Frigid glances transposes nakedness, hurling
Endless hurly-burly without gear control.
The credentials diminishing love's glow, mystifies,
Ballooning through our lives piling love-ashes,
Pile, after pile, after pile,
Characterizing a bulldozer after an obese forest fire.
Yet, deep under the fertile rubbish lay hope-roots,
And time will recoup the beauty of ruined past.