Caramel

It won’t do to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.
It won’t do to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.
I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;
But I don’t know
how I would live with myself,
what I’d forgive of myself
if you don’t go.
So goodbye,