We used to strike sparks off each other. Our eyes would meet or our hands, & the blue lightning of love would sear the air. Now we are soft. We loll in the same sleepy bed, skin of my skin, hair of my head, sweat of my sweat- you are kin, brother & mother all in one, husband, lover, muse & comforter; I love you even better without sparks. We are pebbles in the tide rolling against each other. The surf crashes above us; the irregular pulse of the ocean drives our blood, but we are growing smooth against each other. Are we living happily ever after? What will happen to my love of cataclysms? My love of sparks & fire, my love of ice? Fellow pebble, let us roll against each other. Perhaps the sparks are clearer under water.