It’s tough, love’s eternal,

and tougher men are not inflexible,

persistent as the flux

and sudden flame touches each

in every light as it passes

on to others; it’s tough to cede a torch,

or weigh it as release or respite,

till returned endurance and resilience

charge anticipation through the night;

it’s tough to hope and count on

love’s recurrent pentecostal romp,

hardened by its frequent flight,

and know through darkness any man

an ember is and breathlessly revives