Love making

The night breeze as frosty
As the face-thrush of an open freezer
As I hold on to you – my fireplace
Where I kindle, ravage and finally become embers
All in your open arms

Your thumbprint
That presses against my hip-flanks
And your slender fingertips – fore, middle, ring and pinky
That anchor to my dorsal hip bones
As the night is still young
And now I have mastered enough
To know your inner-flammability
How your wildfires radiate
Without burning your roots

And I casually glide in to you
With my fingers spaced around your neck and cheeks
And my lips perfectly hinged
On yours and we blaze and blaze
As the fireflies on our lips become arsonists
And passion sweeps like bushfires

We blazed and blazed – the night
As crisp as tinder and the morning
As cold as embers, and in-between
– in the wee hours

We had combusted into a hearth of cinders.


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