My skin caught on fire at the sight of the creamy ivory of her lushness just begging to be sipped and savored with my tongue. Seductive heavy lashed eyes gazed at my inner soul, urging me to fall abjectly at her feet. Her breasts were like full moons shining luminously in white gold beams of enticement. Shapely legs begged me to travel to their molten source. Even her name was beautiful – Lorelei – named after a woman who was rumored to be a bewitcher of men as well a siren calling them to their deaths.

“Stay away from her.” My deceased mother’s voice instilled itself into my head, pounding in her insistence, “She is no good. She’ll hurt you.”

“Be quiet, mother,” I shouted, “go back to your netherworld and leave me alone.”

I knew in my last kernel of awareness that my mother was right. Although I was overcome by a malignant aura foretelling that Lorelei was evil incarnate, I chose to turn my back, ignoring my subconscious warnings. I argued with myself in heated words, rationalizing that I would just ride the magic carpet to wherever it took me, without worrying about the consequences. I promised myself that I would leave after sampling her wonders. My pulse quickened as little beads of sweat decorated my upper lip in moistness. “I am coming, Lorelei,” I crooned, as I floated toward her in ignorant bliss.

“You’ll be sorry. Don’t do it!” I paid no heed to my mother’s distant fading voice.

Lorelei was everything that had been promised to me as I lost myself in her

whirlwind of pure lust. She gave to me until I begged her to stop. “Please,”

I cajoled, “I can’t go on forever as you can. There has to be an ending.”

But Lorelei continued with her passionate ministrations of moist lips, probing tongue, and stroking hands leading me to her very center. Finally, I crashed into the rock wall that the Song of Lorelei had promised me in legends of the past. My heart could take it no longer and ceased its hammering life.

Once again, I heard the warning voice of my mother, “I warned you, son! Now you’ll be with me forever in the clouds. She was the death of you!”

My skin caught on fire at the start of this write— I burned this very message type after type, sitting beside my cat in the tinder blankness of night. Me and a cup of Joe under one previously dwindling little work light. Never mind the smell!! The burnt plastic keys are lost, but replaceable! This time and space consuming these ’hales at the drafting table, this wayward display of interpersonal care, flares but for a moment before running out of air. And tonight, by bonfire light, I write and I write—Do you see the potential conflagrating in such a sight? 

My skin caught on fire at the touch of your lips

The warm tender skin of which love drips,

The sensation you give is fire and ice,

This is too good to be true there must be a price.

Your hand brushes my cheek and your eyes seem to shine,

If only this moment could last a life time,

With another kiss I sink a little more,

My heart screams, my heart yells, my heart roars.

Your hand slides down my side and around to my lower back,

And every time you do it my mind wanders off track,

I wander so far, I get lost in a jungle,

I tangle around you like a vine, without trouble.

I love you so much and you love me

Sometimes I wonder 'could a stronger love be?'

Of course one cannot because although our love is a mess

Our mess called love is surprisingly a success.

You and I go together like the moon and the sun

I am the bullets and you are the gun,

You kiss me once more and a fire burns again

And underneath the surface burns a love that will never end.

My skin caught on fire

At the moment his cold skin touched mine

The moment I heard his sultry voice

The moment his teeth found my vein

Oh, how I burned

Re-calescent

I was Icarus flying to close to the sun

I was a Phoenix bursting into rebirth

I was surely struck by the lightning of Thor

How I relished in the flame

Paralysed by his scolding touch

Paralysed by my boiling fear

Paralysed by my searing lust

Oh, how I burned, but,

Chilling terror or smoking desire

Which way would I fall?

I still had not decided

Even as he tore my dress away

His hands roamed

Caressing my sweltering, naked body

Caressing my shivering, inner thighs

Caressing my sizzling lips of sin

Oh, how I burned

I moaned, begging

Pleading for more of his feverish torture

Pleading for him to burn me whole

Pleading for him to ignite my soul

So he gave me fire

Wrapped in ice

& I froze to death

Melting into him

& oh, how I burn

©CJ

16th July 2017

My skin caught on fire as the sound of my name rolled off your tongue, left your lips, and engulfed my heart with the entirety of your existence. 

Because dammit, that was the effect you had on me.

I looked into your eyes but you stared back into my soul. I held your hand but you had me wrapped around your finger. I inhaled the scent of your smoke and it was addictive. You burnt my tongue as it touched yours. You singed me as you traced me with your fingers. I loved the pain.

Mother always told me not to play with fire,

So why did I let you turn me into ashes?

My skin caught on fire at the sound of his voice as he whispered my name. It was the last promise he had to break to finally set myself free. 

We waited 40 days to heal as we break and build each other's dreams. As he cruised with the cold breath of the night time under his feet, I found roads yet explored. My eyes sought comfort with the warm tears swelling at the edge of each one. They blurred my sight for a while, but they served as the lens for a clearer view of him watching from afar. 

Every beat of my heart reminded me of the wishes we shared, of the goals we made, and even of the struggles we faced. In those 40 days before the end, saying my name, one last time was the deal.

He complied. I am now free. I hope he is as well.

My skin caught on fire

at the touch of your hand.

Raging with desire,

being just a man,

coming in contact with

you, made me lose my mind,

my thoughts began to drift.

Your gift was not unkind,

your intention was Love.

The fault lies within me.

Anything from above

this plane would affect me

the same. I am human.

This gift bestowed - burns me!

Woman you're not, nor man.

You want to set us free.

I do not understand

why you bother to care.

With being part of Man,

I know that we are scared

to love. You have so much

to teach. As we despair,

do we have a chance? Such

Hope! Do we even dare?

Does the fire go out?

Do not cast me from you.

Teach me and I will shout

for you. Love, all for you. 

My skin caught on fire at the club that night. His muscular arms were wrapped around my tiny waist as our bodies swayed to the music. Perfectly in sync. He kissed me so tenderly on the nape of my neck, I almost came right there on the dance floor. Then in one swift motion, he spun me around and we were face-to-face, breathing each other in. His lips were on mine. He tasted like black silk - sweet, creamy and delicious. We fit together like two pieces in a puzzle, our bodies and souls intertwined. I never knew passion like that truly existed. Which is why leaving it behind was the hardest thing I ever had to do.  

My skin caught on fire at the

                                        r

                                        a

                                        i

                                        l

                                        i

                                        n

                                        g

Touch(ow exciting it is to feel

Love)

Of your lips,

Red as your spirit,

d e t a e h

as the morningdaynight we create

(and it blooms with your eyes,

these

Stars

born again within you,

combustion of your matter

                                i

                                n

                                d)on’t forget how the dew tastes,

Boiling my fingertips

As I wipe drop  away,

                      s

Soothing these burns

As I reach for you to stay

(our love

is eternal,

so giving)

One moment more before the chaos of the daynight

Sweeps you away.

My skin caught on fire at the

Twinkling of the piano,

Sp

   i R

         a

     L

 l

      i n

   g

within your hair,

your laugh,

your fingers.

I never imagined a fire

Such as you;

It is your vivacity that

gives Energy to this nightdaymo rning

                                    (r         (u

                                     a             life without you)

                                     i

                                     l

me along

as long as this skin burns).

My skin caught on fire at the way you said my name. 

Just kidding. Is that what you wanted me to say? We're too different, you and I. You have the spark of life in those eyes, with an eagerness to please in the upturn of your lips. Like me, your smile says. I almost wish I could obey. Yet, herein lies the issue: where your fire burns bright and full, my ice spreads cold and thin. 

Oh, it's not your fault. Your fire is beautiful, and it will grow and burn without me. 

I am not broken, nor am I damaged. I adore the chill that seeps deeper within me than most could fathom. I appreciate that my environment is difficult for others, in that it assures me only the best for me can stand to stick around. No, this doesn't make me special. This makes me my own. I can live unapologetically, and so can you. 

I admire your tenacity. Your love for life and your heated energy can be quite infectious. It's a wondrous thing, I admit. It simply isn't meant for me. 

So I'm sorry, sweetheart. My skin will never burn for you. That's alright though, isn't it? I can admire your flame from afar. I can appreciate the beauty of something without yearning for it to be mine. The world needs more of that.