# Desire Aflame Desire aflame— a coal that glows in darkness, ember-bright, untamed. It rises like smoke through the narrow corridors of the sleeping body, curls around the spine, settles in the hollow where the heart keeps watch. Once kindled, it will not diminish. It feeds on itself, grows fatter on denial, grows sharper on the blade of longing. The mouth becomes a furnace. The hands, restless birds beating against closed windows. The eyes burn with a fire that has no name in daylight. In the dark, we are all the same color— flushed, fevered, alive with a hunger that belongs to something older than reason, something that remembers the first spark, the first breath, the first burning. And we tend it like a secret garden, like a god we worship in the privacy of our skin, knowing it will consume us, knowing we are already kindling and flame.

 
Evening unlocked the gates to a world of dreams,
The air thick with the perfume of desire.
Wildfire and fury course through our veins,
We surrender, helpless before this hunger.


Your kisses find their breath in me,
I flood your skin with intoxicating warmth.
You spin a web of touches, deliberate, slow,
Binding my mind with relentless grace.


My soul caught in your threads,
Pulls you closer, squeezes your heart to mine.
I gasp—my chest splits open,
You consume me, burning yourself with my fire.


We rise from pleasure into heaven,
Winged, we soar above the turning world.
Our joy liquefies what we are.
We burn, lovers in the furnace of love.


So near the summit of all sensation,
I press against your back, eyes wide,
And whisper: "Love me more, love me harder."
I come undone, dissolving in your passion.


Perhaps I mistake what lives in me—
I may have named desire by love's name.
But I don't ask for clarity.
I only want to return to you, again and again.