He used to know what love was.
He touched her skin
and felt the pulse speed up,
the heat of the temperature
rising,
and lusty afternoons
spent in her embrace.
He thought he knew about passion,
and learned about days
spent seeking it.
When she came to him,
He was young
and alive,
and ready for the future.
The pleasure and pain
of knowing her,
became commonplace,
and he spent hours and days and weeks,
trying to experience it
again
and again.
As time went by,
He felt the magic
soften
and disappear.
He didn’t really know
anything
about love,
after all.
When she introduced herself
to the older him,
she didn’t try to push him away.
She surrendered to him,
and he allowed himself
to see other things.
When their skin dulled,
and the lust turned to familiarity,
and the age slowed the pace,
he discovered a passion for living,
and put away useless things.
When he surrendered,
he knew that there was no battle
to be fought,
no war to be won.
There was only a lifetime
left for the passion
of surrender.
