Solo Di Que Me Amas
Joseph Scariano

Solo di que me amas she whispered,
her voice echoing through a time
of flurries of ice, ceaseless blizzards,
my indulgence of her a near crime.
Time glossing over her memory,
she returned—hoping that I’d be
refilled with temptatious energy:
She acquired permanence in me;
but, I refrained from her miseries
trusting in the memories that stain
her, not in our sweet histories,
leaving me with a liberating pain—
Surrendering myself to a world free
of that once sacred we.