Fire
You are a maze of mazes. A thousand puzzle pieces scattered on the floor that I could, and would, spend the rest of my life putting together.
Your words are light but your shoulders are weighted as you observe me from the sofa. A heaviness tends to follow you, but there are these moments when you look at me, that it disappears. The clouds break, and rays of sunlight spill onto my face.
Everything about me is apparent - honest - transparent. But you dwell in murky waters. My toes search for the bottom and just when I think I've found it, I slip deeper into the abyss that is you.
I have yet to determine if you are a savior or a predator, but somehow, I wouldn't mind being your prey. You put your drink down and get up from the couch, sauntering towards me as velvet gravel words flow from your lips.
The way you circle me, your hot breath floating over my cold skin, your eyes searching my soul without even having to look at my face, is unnerving. You say that I'm unpredictable, full of surprises. You marvel at me while I huff in disbelief.
For being so special, no one has ever seen it before. In the quiet space of secrecy I tell you of the many men I've admired. How they look through me. "Maybe if I were taller…or skinnier…or prettier…" but you put your hand over my mouth, stifling the self doubt.
"Lizzy," you whisper in my ear, still behind me, your breath tickling the fine tendrils of my hair. "Be grateful that they were superficial. Be grateful for their blindness, for their idiocy and immaturity.
I dart my tongue out and surprise you, your hand faltering off my face. I reach up and hold it there, painting a circle with my tongue in your palm before kissing it and returning it to you. "And why should I be grateful?" I whisper.
"Because," your hand moves to grip my hip. "If they had seen it, had seen you as the brilliant spark that could set the world on fire…well then, you wouldn't be here with me."
"Somehow I doubt that," I turn, finding your green eyes in the dimly lit darkness. I think we would have found one another."
"And how are you so certain of that?"
"Because you and I are an inevitability."
Your head pulls back slightly, a smile widening on your face. "I believe you said yesterday that the idea of us romantically was akin to playing with fire."
"I did," I conceded, letting myself be drawn closer by your fingers. "But being near the heat of your warmth is worth the risk, and certainly better than being out in the cold by myself." You run your hand through my hair and analyze the situation.
"But what if you get burned?" your voice drops an octave as you eye me carefully.
"I won't," I reply with a solid tenor and even sturdier resolve. My hand rests on your chest, moving up to the knot of the silk tie resting on the pulse of your neck. I can see the thinner skin on the side of your neck beating ever so slightly, the pace picking up as I lean in for a kiss.
"There is no going back," you warn as my lips careen dangerously close to yours. Despite your marked advantage over me in terms of years, it is you who suddenly seems just a hair less suave than usual. Just a tad more unsure than what is typical. Naturally, undoing you is what I thrive off of, so I soak in the moment before answering.
"I know Scott," I murmured into his lips.
Your words are light but your shoulders are weighted as you observe me from the sofa. A heaviness tends to follow you, but there are these moments when you look at me, that it disappears. The clouds break, and rays of sunlight spill onto my face.
Everything about me is apparent - honest - transparent. But you dwell in murky waters. My toes search for the bottom and just when I think I've found it, I slip deeper into the abyss that is you.
I have yet to determine if you are a savior or a predator, but somehow, I wouldn't mind being your prey. You put your drink down and get up from the couch, sauntering towards me as velvet gravel words flow from your lips.
The way you circle me, your hot breath floating over my cold skin, your eyes searching my soul without even having to look at my face, is unnerving. You say that I'm unpredictable, full of surprises. You marvel at me while I huff in disbelief.
For being so special, no one has ever seen it before. In the quiet space of secrecy I tell you of the many men I've admired. How they look through me. "Maybe if I were taller…or skinnier…or prettier…" but you put your hand over my mouth, stifling the self doubt.
"Lizzy," you whisper in my ear, still behind me, your breath tickling the fine tendrils of my hair. "Be grateful that they were superficial. Be grateful for their blindness, for their idiocy and immaturity.
I dart my tongue out and surprise you, your hand faltering off my face. I reach up and hold it there, painting a circle with my tongue in your palm before kissing it and returning it to you. "And why should I be grateful?" I whisper.
"Because," your hand moves to grip my hip. "If they had seen it, had seen you as the brilliant spark that could set the world on fire…well then, you wouldn't be here with me."
"Somehow I doubt that," I turn, finding your green eyes in the dimly lit darkness. I think we would have found one another."
"And how are you so certain of that?"
"Because you and I are an inevitability."
Your head pulls back slightly, a smile widening on your face. "I believe you said yesterday that the idea of us romantically was akin to playing with fire."
"I did," I conceded, letting myself be drawn closer by your fingers. "But being near the heat of your warmth is worth the risk, and certainly better than being out in the cold by myself." You run your hand through my hair and analyze the situation.
"But what if you get burned?" your voice drops an octave as you eye me carefully.
"I won't," I reply with a solid tenor and even sturdier resolve. My hand rests on your chest, moving up to the knot of the silk tie resting on the pulse of your neck. I can see the thinner skin on the side of your neck beating ever so slightly, the pace picking up as I lean in for a kiss.
"There is no going back," you warn as my lips careen dangerously close to yours. Despite your marked advantage over me in terms of years, it is you who suddenly seems just a hair less suave than usual. Just a tad more unsure than what is typical. Naturally, undoing you is what I thrive off of, so I soak in the moment before answering.
"I know Scott," I murmured into his lips.
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