In my mind everything is ablaze
hotter than asphalt after a week of long summer days.
Everything glows orange or is tinged red,
sadly this excitement is only in my head.
For though I dream in tongues of flame
I know you do not see the same
and whilst I breath passion and fire,
your cold seeks to quench my desire.
It creeps along icy tendrils of word play
Seeps into hearths and hearts leaving only an ashy gray
Collecting in sullen recesses of shadow and despair
invisible to the eye but oppressive in the air
that same air that escapes your mouth with every breath
clawing its way across subtle spaces and bringing with it death.
Not that my fire is any more gentle
In fact the gouts of molten need all but drove me mental
No it would be that to sate the fire's need
would char our hearts indeed
for I am heat and you are cold
you are coy and I am bold
so here: take hold of my hand let loose a laugh
we'll ignore the cruel cold and the heat's wrath
for it is clear we are not meant to be.