The Molten Essence of Flames

The fire melting the frost of dusk
melts us into one another.

Your hand reinvents the paths of passion
searing my skin, this glow shaping the curves
of your desire in perfect fit.

Pliable glances, blazing blues and greens
burn textures, between silk and velvet
between thighs and opaline dew welling up
with all the radiance of magic
and then more.

Your mouth seeks
what spells my lips whisper
and the alchemy of kiss paints
glitters along abandons and causal
sequences of golden touches
a throb here, a moan there
the folds of shadows on the ceiling
slipping down and billowing around us
in revelations of light.

The floor, a honeyed, ductile surface
is but the undulation of contours
with all the substance of flames
and all the essence of their dance
flaring up in my hips, your hips
and this circled symphony
of thrusts, of cores that meet
and pierce the culprits of harmony
as our voices free, in unison
the melded stride of sparks.

Depths explode in burnished
peaks of breasts meeting your chest
as the flaring source of a whole new
universe would reach the arcadian dome
where god and goddess and creation
become one, on a bed of conflagrant
roses, of conception and delivery
of flesh torn to gush the soul of blood
and the sperm of breath.

Molten combustions drip, slowly
onto discarded wraps of duskiness.

And the frost is now a mere haze
molding, with flushed diaphaneity
the afterglow of our silhouettes
and ardent pleasure, melted
into one another.

© 2006 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®