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