Our Weak Love
Our love
Fickle down to its core
A wavering flame
In the midst of stagnant air
Dry as our conversations
Which lacked zest
My fever grew
As your complacent tendencies
Towered over me
Few tender moments
Had chance to mature
With foundations made of sand
There is little fuel to burn
Dreamt of a fiery passion
To be only awaken
By a flicker at best.
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