Braided Flame
Her breath is ember, mine the spark,
our fingers clasped in dusk’s soft arc.
The forest folds within her palm,
my storm undone by love’s deep calm.
No path to run, no fire to flee—
just this, just now: the flame is we.
A duo sung to love in two entwined expressions.
The Heat Between
There is a fire that builds within the body's walls,
a furnace of the soul that burns too bright
for clothes, for rooms, for any small constraint—
it calls for wilderness, for naked flight
through forests where the moon has stripped the night.
But here, beside the breathing of my love,
I hold this burning, count the minutes down,
knowing it will pass like fever dreams,
or knowing that a single touch can crown
this solitude with fire shared between.
Her hand receives the heat my fingers bring,
becomes the other half of what I am—
no longer mine alone, this wild desire
for earth and sky and freedom's wordless hymn,
but ours, a double flame that warms us both.
In half an hour it would fade to ash,
but in her palm it blooms eternal, bright,
two souls made kindling for a single fire
that needs no woods to run through in the night,
finding its wildness in this quiet touch.
Embers of the Soul
A warmth ignites within my core,
A restless fire, a primal roar.
It grips my soul with fervent need,
To strip, to run, where wild hearts bleed.
Through woods untamed, my spirit calls,
To dance where ancient starlight falls.
Yet half an hour, the blaze may wane,
A fleeting tide, no chain to claim.
But in the dark, her hand meets mine,
A spark leaps free, our souls entwine.
The heat I hold, no longer mine alone,
In her soft touch, a shared hearth grown.
No need to flee, no need to roam,
Her warmth, my fire, our hearts a home.
Between our palms, the embers sing,
Love’s quiet flame, an endless spring.