i reached my hand to place the olive branch in the space that sat between us

the fault had widened by your sense of pride and my shameless attempt to redeem us. 

you stood and waited as i came to face it; if i do or i don’t, i’d be damned 

you turned to face me as my nerves escaped me; an olive branch in your hand.

the moments were magic, erased all once tragic; you sought me out for selfish desire

too long and far apart, since we felt a spark but this quickly ignited a fire.

you pulled me right in to taste you again and i slept with the thought; you were mine

but i woke to a ghost, not a single riposte; then saw you with hands intertwined.

i’m not like before and this time i’m sure; you can lay in your bed with the blame

olive branch in my grip, from my last fingertip; fell peacefully into the flame.