it's hot

11 1 0
                                    

to me, love burns.

I am fire, my heart is fire, my soul is fire, my hair is molten lava and my skin is carefully etched rock. every lover I've ever had, they burned me!

fire meets fire and puts on a passionate dance, always at the requirement of one or both of them suffering. I'll take my hands intertwined with a lover I'll never truly care about and forget in a month and I dance across steel wool floors, burning down my whole body with me. I'll emerge smoking, my black hair melted, my skin bloody and cracking with every movement, like a porcelain doll fired too high in the kiln. I'll shatter in your arms. let these hands and heart turn to ash in your hold. you've ruined me

but, god, to love such a watery person...what a risk! you could completely suffocate my flame. you could put me out in a second if you dared. you could ruin me in entirely brand new ways that nobody else has gotten to. I expected it from you, y'know?!?! drown me under all your waterlogged love! do it, I'm not scared!

but you didn't. you didn't put me out exactly as I expected. you held me close in those cold, clear hands and you kissed my cheek and your water was boiling, and the lava dripping from my cheeks slowed the rate at which they fell, and we were... perfect opposites.

all flames dance and twirl around your gentle fingers as if they were flirting with you, the gall, to ask you to dance and risk completely boiling you away as is a risk with us both...but you always match their dance. soft fingertips take the desperate hands of my fire and spin them all around glass jars, the heat touches your skin in kisses, my love- can you guess why everything hot has taken a liking to you?

lay next to me, won't you? tonight you can really kiss me on the lips and I'll turn all my heat down for you, and show me how you dance with the source of all the love this world has for you. carve words into my body and then drown me so geologists can unravel our love from my veins and think "by fucking god, someone lived and loved here, and now they're gone. isn't that great?"

aren't you great? I'd have to agree.

To Everyone I've LovedWhere stories live. Discover now