A Letter to Eros

Dear Eros,
I once knew you and you knew me
We knew each other not so long ago.

I remember how it felt,
Getting butterflies at the sound of a voice,
Checking my phone every few minutes
And discovering that having an ounce of extra melanin would not suffice to camouflage the blush on my cheeks.

But you know that Eros because you were there.
At times like a flame burning with passion,
At times like a bud patiently blooming,
In the doubts waltzing to the ground like rose petals caught in a game of “she loves me, she loves me not…”
And in the winter,
Like chimney wood longing for the fire,
Thirsty lips raring for a glass of ruby red wine.
I am wood and you the flame
I am parched and the wine bottle is empty,
I want you and you want me
We want each other but it’s complicated,
We’ve grown cold and my lips are sobering
So, I won’t awaken you before you wish to,

So for now, sleep.
Until we meet again,
An old friend.

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