the flame doesn't burn her.
she craves the warmth,
the caress of the tongues
of lapping fire.
he touches her heated body,
feeling the passion
of her fiery soul
and his fingers stick.
he blackens under the flame
shooting from her core,
and licking his body
with its disintegrating heat.
he returns to her fire
like a delicate moth.
he cannot resist her
blaze of heated passion.
the flame doesn't burn her.
she craves the warmth,
the caress of the tongues
of lapping fire.
but he burns and perishes
in her lust.
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