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What are you waiting for?
I struck the match
Cupping my hands around it.
Shielding it from the wind
Giving it time to grow.
The little spark grew quickly,
Like passion it grew exponentially.
The warmth filling my hands.
The flame tentively licking at my skin.
If I hold it too close, surely I will be burned.
No. I must guide it to the kindling
Watch it ignite and tend to it.
When it grows weak I must poke it,
Rearrange it,
Pucker my full lips and blow
Sweet encouragements across its hot coals
Commanding it to ignite once again.
Over and over the flame will rise and fall
As the breath that swells within my breasts.
From time to time it will grow unruley
Growing bold it will expand and try to leap from its confinement.
If given the chance it would consume all that's in its path.
Naughty little flame.
Must I dowse you until you are but a single ember
To remind you whose lips bring you life?
By: Foxy Wife 4/01/11
