I Burn, Therefore I Am

Inspired by my love

I was like candle wax, in the palm of his hands, my skin hot, fragile, and led by the smokeless flame he imposed on me. My sweat was reminiscent of melted wax on a candlestick

I was like a candlestick, grounded, sitting proud in my gilded brass bougeoir. There I was, burning for him. He ignited my thread with his spirit. His words ravaged me in love, reminding me that God exists. His breath could start a wildfire.

He caresses my burning braid without laying a finger on it, then meets the spirit of the flame with his eyes, carefully admiring its fragility and beauty. My flame burned relentlessly, so strong that not even the wind could blow me out.

The last time he dared to lay a finger on me, I melted in his arms and all that was left of me was the desire to burn again. I’d beg him to light my fire because no one else could do it the way he does , not even I. I was so hot, dripping in feeling, craving to meet him deeper than he has met himself. I was like a flame dancing in the dark. Everything around me disappeared into the shadows of my past. He transported me, and as the air around us thickened like honey, I was soaked in my own emotion, dripping desperately. This is how I know that I’ve lived

If I can write it out, if it oozes through my pores and suffocates everyone around me I’ve lived. A life fully lived is a life of passion. I burn, therefore I am.

I am a wildfire, baptized in the heat of his presence.

And I ain’t been cold since.