Tax & Ash

Trust not, love protests born in the heat of urgent passion
Trust not, love born out of one-sided trauma
For passions will inevitably cool
One eventually learns the tax is too high
The perceived prize, no longer worth the risk.
 
Pheromone hazes will clear
Like nuclear fall out
Turing endearments into frosty ash
Coating mouths and intentions
With inevitable resentments and vitriol.   
A personal Pompeii you can only pray will someday be unearthed
Studied and cherished.
 
Let calmer hearts speak of love
Grounded and secure
Less likely to give into fantasy
Less likely to give the monkey brain the wheel
Prone to driving all to Self-indulgent ruin.