Undimmed

I’m not the man I was when first we met
Nor you, when first emerging from the dark
I’m stronger now, perhaps not wiser yet
I wear a dozen years’ unfaded mark

The arrow’s wound as raw as ere it was
Infatuation mellowed over time
And limerence let my heart fall from her jaws
So every year, I conjure up a rhyme

To etch again on this peculiar glass
The ache, undimmed, persisting in my breast
That we may long recall our fevered past
And keep the pangs of love thus ever fresh

So changed – and still the same – my love prevails
through cherished pain, and age, as life entails