Hear It Breathing In Darkness

It seemed necessary, natural
to possess or be possessed;
unrestrained, untrained
energy bursting through

its thin, hard shell

like fireworks.  You can still
smell the smoke but
excitement always
weakens, dissipates;

the things we've loved
lose their sharp, fresh edges,
their shiny veneer gives

way to lackluster.

There is something holy
at the end of this
spiraling tunnel

waiting

for eyes, for hearts
to adjust to its sweet
darkness,

its desire to
claim us.