Scathefire

Raw. Not my typical style.

Don't ask to kiss me
Bring me all raw passion
And heat.

Coiled tight against your being
My body aches
Yearns
To know of your fire.

Soft moans escape
And the true meaning of my words
Are lost in the scintillation
Of socially undesirable verbs.

Deep sighs graze my neck
Trailing love-wanted embers
As we explore this novelty
Left dormant for so long.

Your mind has provided kindling
For this blaze.

Find me in this place
And bring me all raw passion
And heat
And you.

Reviews

[Ed Fagan]

Whatever lit this "fire" needs to understand how hot it burns ... I'm sure the first aid kit failed to stock the necessary bandages.