Love is never idle
the great poets say
even when it seems we play
like Nero did to Rome,
we fiddle while our hearts burn
aching to make this
romp
into more than play
this painful attraction
turned as idol magic
into longing too deep
to be taken lightly
and even at this distance
even when we seem estranged
it still stirs an old cold
waiting to be shifted
so we may set the flame
once or fiddle to our hearts content
even when Rome Burns
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