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The Fire


He is the flame,

so tender,

so warm.

His smile radiates heat,

keeping me from death’s cold carressing fingertips.

His eyes are as bright as the sun,

lighting up the dark and casting artistic shadows for all to see.

His voice like a summer breeze,

rolling off the water to meet me.

Defrosting my bones and setting me free.

The untameable flame

snaps at me,

leaving bittersweet burns.

His touch send me into a hurricane,

spinning me around and throwing me to the ground.

Like a plastic bag in the wind,

I have no control and am a victim to his will.

But like an evanescent summer storm,

he is gone.

And the only evidence left is a puddle in my heart.

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JaymeTheArtist

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