The Fire Dancer

My heart counted the tears and my mind counted the days,

Before he came back to town.

My mother always told me to never play with fire, but he awakes the pyromaniac in me

The way he danced with the flames never losing his smile,

His hands showed the story of his mind controlling every blaze every flame,

Yet his eyes told a story that his hands could not hide , the story of his undying pain,

the gap of loneliness and the glittering in his eyes showed an image that I easily deciphered one of a brutally beaten heart

I knew because I felt the same.

He recognized how our souls eagerly tried to get closer so they could enjoy being who they were a masochist and a sadist, introverts they both were yet he wouldn't put down the flames.

As I got closer the flames grew larger

My inner wolf rose to the surface for as our faces were still inches apart I was overwhelmed by the intoxicating smell which was you

The fire had lost its spark and our surroundings went dark leaving nothing but the sound of our breathing and your eyes looking directly in mine reading me, slowly starting to love me,

Not even the smoke could cover the manly yet soft delicate smell which was you.

Its been so long since I have felt so cradled with love by your wonderfully exhilarating smell

And now the town's folk are all gathering around " The dancer of flames has returned."

And as I got closer my heart raced,

The butterflies in my stomach transformed to eagles but that all changed when I realized ...

You didn't smell the same.