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It was the coldest night my bones have ever known
I still don't know if the chill on my skin was really as cold as it was - or only cold because
it was in contrast to him.
Like the spiney fingers of a sycamore sprung from the fruitless clay earth with a thirst gone long unquenched, I cracked and split against his approaching heat. Staked in place to helpless wait
for him to burn right through me.
You see with him, I become the fire
and with me, he becomes the earth
together we both become ash
and without, there is no worth
So I surrender to his burn, as his hot kisses hissss in my ear
as his red turns my green black
lashing his tongue across my torso
gnashing his teeth at my back.
Layer by layer I fell away to his fire
as I burned hotter and hotter
and my thirst became desire
and my brittle bones became a burning ember
and so to his burn I surrendered
He climbed me quickly and leapt from my branches
and danced on my ends in an ungodly seance
on this coldest night he burned through me in one smoldering gasp
till I stole the breath from his fire, and we both collapsed.
Now I am of him, and he of me
a smoldering tangle that stirs in the breeze
So I surrender to his burn, and he to the earth
Now through each other we've found a new worth.
Fin.
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