So many of my sentences
could begin with 'there was a time when'
and 'remember how'
but it would be ever bittersweet,
joy and pain melted together in a wild fusion
like silver and gold still dripping from the fire,
a breathtaking shimmer and a silent scorch.
Being of flesh ourselves, I can not compare
these bodies to a simple metal.
It is instead the play of changing motion, emotion,
as sunlight shining on moving water,
in which these memories become earth's elements,
visceral and mined along the treachery
of thought and remembrance, plunging
to purify in a burst of seasoned steam
to await the forge once more where
you and I will be folded, refolded
a thousand times over until the weapon
that is our enchantment stirs free of the fire
to gleam neither silver nor gold
but silver-gold, creation of shadows and sunlight,
of highest heat and coolest cold
the sword of thought and memory
always at my side.