Extinguished

I want the wanting, miss our missing time,
still crave the craving, long for longing lost,
the far-off falling miles, your face sublime
that burned the pulsing blood to matter most.
I ache for aching, sigh for sighing when
your whispers intimated secret things
in moments past (for now was nothing then);
desire those desires fleeting passion brings.
We ended our beginning long ago
while custom slipped us into comfort zones;
our fires tired, paled to afterglow
and left a conflagration cold as stones.
In middle-age, inured to fading flame,
our embers rest and dare not flare again.