When first I slipped my hand under your shirt,
I shivered like a thief, stealing your heat
and softness. How my eager fingers burned
down to their tips, while cradled in my palm
your beating heart set fire to my blue veins.
I smoldered like an ember, and your voice
enflamed my skin to blazes with a sigh.
Later, my steaming hands undid your skirt;
My tongue on your thigh traced that secret beat
as if in flames. And who knows how I learned
to handle fire that way? Or where the calm
that so possessed me sprung from? What explains
how phoenix-like, consumed, I could rejoice--
be born anew in you, and, burning, fly?
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