While the fire burns low

"Is this what you want?"

The words hang between us.

Smoke drifts,

 blocking the eyes.

"Do you know what it means?'

Only catch a glimpse,

  and I am unable to answer.

If I could only see the eyes.

"You will never be the same."

Isn't that what I wanted?

I wanted to change.

"Not yet.  Maybe one day, but not yet."

Try to protest,

  but there is nothing but smoke.

I wonder when.

Reviews

[Ana Papaya]

This sounds like a lover's quarrel.

[Jon Roggie]

This connects to the one I wanted you to read again. Still, I can see your point, and could be mixed into the theme.