It began with a kiss,
A night of heated passion,
Something of desire,
A flame needing assassin.

It started with the words,
We both longed to hear,
We were there for each other,
We had nothing to fear.

I loved the way you said my name,
The way you talked to me,
You held me with such wanting,
I new we were to be.

You new how I felt,
You felt the same,
A beginning so perfect,
But love is often framed.

It is a trick,
Played upon the mind,
It can make us deaf,
Makes us blind.

It was a fairy tale,
Something so true,
I wanted it to last,
I wanted to be with you.

But then the final kiss came,
And neither of us realized,
The passion we started with,
Had begun our goodbyes.

Yet I still recall that memory,
That last trace of touch,
Our love was something unique,
We were objects of lust.

By Siobhan
Date: 4/August/2004