Soften my hard edges
Those that my life has seen fit
To impose upon the veneer of my persona.
Let me lose myself in your smell,
So like that of a meadow after rain’s fall.
Kindle the fire which dormant lies,
Tarnished by daily frustrations.
Lie with me, sweet lover of my soul,
And like the moth,
Let us play with fire.
All Rights Reserved/Copyright Audrey Howitt 2011