Love is my ammunition

Somehow, the last time we made love,
I intuitively knew it would be our final time;
I pulled you close, cheek to cheek,
wrapped my legs around you,
trembled as I felt you inside me;

I put a loving hand behind your head,
smelled you, kissed you, and
floated to the top of the room and
saw us encircled together;

I was present, aware, and in the moment.
I stored that memory in the deep layers of my mind,
but you, you were, as always,
simply oblivious.

And now when you taunt me,
when my heart aches with pain, and
I feel all-alone, and I miss you dearly,
I draw upon that moment.

I let love wash away my anger, jealousy and bitterness.
I see the humor in your games,
smile at your childishness, and
I refuse; refuse to hate you.

I hold on; hold on to love,
because it nourishes my soul and
it gives me the greatest high.

If you should one day again
have the fortune to look into my eyes,
you will not see the soul of an ice queen
you expectedly seek.

Instead my ancient soul will grab you, and
throw you against the tides of love and the currents of wisdom.
And you will come face to face,
with a Warrior of Love.