As Tungsten

This is a two-part poem I wrote some time ago.

Part I

You’re all that I can breathe anymore;

There’s only so much of you left in my lungs

To sustain me till our next meeting.

And when we do meet,

Oh, when we do meet,

My body is a skirmish of heat and wetness,

Smiling warmth, inviting skin, all at once,

Till finally

We Combust.

Part II

What happened to me?

Whence came this dependency?

I postulate that it is when 

My mind advocated abandonment

For how can one love, but not want to commit?

But alas, my heart already concurred

That the half full jar of your love

Was still fuller

than any I’d hoped to taste.

Are you my boon?

Are you my bane? 

The more I resist, 

The more you render my heart

Ever fierce,

As Tungsten.