There is a fire I watch
Flames dance and flicker low
White, blue, green, golden orange, and violet
Reflections of setting suns in kaleidoscope swiftness
Moons rise like pearls scored by pens
The writing I cannot read though I recognize the hand.
The fire in her glows with her smile
Burning fire in her eyes and dancing on her tongue
Fingers flicker like sentient sparks pointing
The way on the sand melting through to captured shells or
That bit of water a prism for the sun
Allowing us to savor the gift in gratitude
Her fire is upon my skin; her touch searing me
Her hand presses into mine with casual deliberation
Soothing heat filling me when nothing else can
Green flames in her eyes promising, laughing
A line of sun catching her cheek as her lips close on mine
Sharing her fire that warms me forever.
