They were lovers of the light
Creatures of a crimson night
They came together starless,
Fearless, they gave into each
Other like fire quenching fire.

They were lovers of the light
Who mistook loving for
Destroying in the dark airless
Night. Flesh on flesh they fed
Gorged, hapless, as if love
And not lust was a greedy
Harping sin.

They were lovers of the light
Dripping, folding, through her
Fingers, she could never catch
Raindrops, and when she opened
Her eyes he vanished
A player on an empty stage
She could not catch him,
Vanquish him, she had already
Turned him away, cut through
Him with her clumsy heavy words.

They were lovers of the light
That was how she saw them
Every night when she turned
Against the wall and glimpsed
How it might have been.
How maddening, how sickening
That it was all but a dream.

For she wanted to be loved like
The light itself, she had to be
As indispensable as the air
As refreshing as the rain
She had to be wanted
Needed, ached for, longed for
Two lovers in the light.

That he had loved the fight,
The chase, as much as he
Adored her face, for it was
A passion they could almost
See, and touch in the air between
Them, melting away as the
Thwarted friction runs
Tingling through their veins.

Lovers of the light
They could have been
Good together, but they
Forgot each other, and
They sit alone, and alone
Still dreaming, yearning, hoping
That their lover who was never
Loved, can still love them with
All the passion of the struggling
Shaded rose who strains for the light.

Rose Staveley-Wadham