Fire Meet Gasoline

The tips of his fingers, so

Heated that they could barely skim the surface,

Of their flushed bodies and entangled limbs, an

Oasis so vast and yet so out of reach that

Deep into the forest, the light which shines within,

That’s what every cranny hid, and every nook beheld.

Eyes meet boldy and skin lights up feverishly,

And fingers play by skilfully, down that

Curvy spine. Goosebumps alight with the

Lightest of touch, and sprawled fingers trace

Mindless patterns and oh, how that in turn

Makes him lose his own (mind).

Life gives life, and breath forms breath,

And words forms words to replace the

Fire dancing within,

And oh what a frenzy, unstoppable in its demands,

Oh what an epiphany, that this could mean life,

Because what is this, if not life,

And what is life, if not this?

And when their lips touch, it all bursts up,

Which one fire, and which one its flame,

But how could it even be different

Aren’t they both the same?

Where does he start and where does she end?

So the night grows up, and the sky changes form

But the fire doesn’t die, as is its norm

Every little scent, and every touch imprinted

Reminds her of the fervour, and sets her ablaze instead.

 

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4 thoughts on “Fire Meet Gasoline

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