You touch my collarbone,
I start to simmer.
Your fingertips burn down
the inroads and valleys
of hip, abdomen, and inner thigh
bringing me to a rolling boil.
Your lips scorch my neck,
a spark flares,
and we were at the flash point,
engulfed in flame,
white-hot and liquid,
the melting begins.
Our frenzied bodies,
striving together
to quell the unquenchable fire,
only create more steam.
Finally, a sweet agony,
the small death…
then stillness.
We lay in a bed
of smoking ashes.

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