I love the fire in you. Yes I do.

My eyes seep right into you, deliciously.

Anger. I love it. It shapes itself so finely into your mortal frame. I fantasize the way it must touch you along the fine lines of your body. Fingers stroking the insides of your skin softy, simmering just under your there. Greedy fingers probing every inch of your body, looking for a weak spot to erupt and take you over completely in a mad rage.
I love your eyes the best because that’s the place where the fire finally shows. Those cold eyes with a hard hitting gaze that sometimes pushes me off balance. I love that, sinfully. They pull me towards themselves and I give way, unravel. Something about them keeps me hungry; you have a facade, and that facade is what I’m after.

And then… Passion. Heat. Red. Fire. …You…

You make and you break. You pick it up and then you fling it across the table. Like our story set on fire, pages burn, the words spread into the air. You give wings to my words and off they fly. Ablaze. Burn. Ignite. Flames. And then, ashes. An Adonis unaware of his charms; and that makes it an almost humbling thought. I decide you are down to earth, even though I know you’re not. I savor the combination and taste it. It suits my mood perfectly. May be I make it all up, but then, how would you explain that fire? I need to have a reason for everything, so I weave my own. Don’t give me any.

I love playing with fire, taking it in the palms of my hand and moving it to and fro, coaxing it to burn brighter but not giving it a chance. It drops from my hand and gets a life of its own. I see it spread all over the place, flowing like water before my very eyes, seeping into every corner and nook and crack it comes across, filling it up, giving away a part of itself so generously till it makes its way to me. I think I almost burn. You burn me with your love. And then you burn me with your anger. I become the fuel to your fire and this is how we coexist. This is how I am your reason. This is how I set you on fire. This is how we create a new life. This is how it takes over everything. This is how we part, and combine.

Time and again.

Strange?

I smile wide. The devil is satisfied.