Is started by something small and simple.
Ignited, usually, by a look.
The fire grows with each passing glance.
When eyes lock, the fire starts to grow and rage.
When fingers interlock,
The fire becomes unpredictable.
The feeling of the others breath only fans the flames.
Making it grow ever stronger.
The feeling of skin is like a bolt of lighting passing through your body.
The chills they produce will be prevalent for all in attendance to witness.
As the night grows old and tired,
The young souls do not.
For they are fueled by passion.
Consumed by a rush of extacy.
Intoxicated by the simplicity of human contact.
They use one another up till there's nothing.
Nothing but smoldering embers littering the large area in which they occupy.
They wrap each other up in one another arms to keep the other warm.
For the fire is never to grow as big as it once was.
So the sleep,
With the image of what used to be dancing in their heads.
_______________________________________
Love and infatuation are two separate things.
One makes you feel on top of the world.
One makes you feel... Well.
Not so much
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PoetryWelcome to my mind and the story which is unfolding in it. If you see one you like, Vote for it! It helps me know which one you are enjoying to read and will help me hone my writing for what you prefer to see! Thank you for looking Cover art by: @Lu...
