Fire is a man I now love

When he stares at me there 

is a fire where his eyes used to be. 

With our first kiss 

suspended within 

a horned amber, 

the endless passion of my desires of him 

now warm my every waking days. 

A flame, 

motionless and of a delicate orange, 

illuminates even the

danger and shame I have long wished to forget. 

He looks upon me, 

in a way I have never seen eyes do, 

and the dysphoria of manhood burns away. 

He loves me by setting me on fire in early spring. 

As the fragile insecurities I have forever 

held begin to burn away, I see only him in the clearing, 

Within a body I am still learning to love