You Don't Know

You don't know how my lips steam,
how my heart rages like wildfire.
Flames can kindle even inside stone—
they will shake you, set you ablaze.

You don't know how my fingers yearn
to ignite passionate infernos.
Rivers of molten lava will surge through you,
racing madly through every cell.

You don't know how bewitching my eyes are,
how they drink and drink till you forget yourself into rapture.
Your heart will be touched, as if by magic,
by the gossamer wings of a butterfly.

If only you knew, you would come to me
with a soul parched and splitting open.
With fire burning in my hands, to conjure dreams real,
I have leapt beyond every wall.