Healing Flames by Anonymous


What Passion Is Composed Of…

"I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in fire and not be consumed," but consume me you shall. You are a lover of a league entirely your own. Your intangible beauty has given me purpose. It's your essence which has planted a fire within my soul. It takes over me. I can feel it spark within my heart and with every stroke, I can feel its warmth-- your warmth-- burst inside of me and spread up to my shoulders. You relax me and in this peaceful condition, I am able to explore how much love I have for you and all of its variations. The innumerable versions send electric shocks down my arms, sending waves of passion to gather at my fingertips. 

They do what they wish and I abandon all logic. My fingers grasp the slim frame of the implement-- we have a bond and through it we create life to new beauty. Each time, it is different though no moment is less special nor more special than any other-- for it is in such moments that you allow me to reflect your beauty. 

That is the utmost honer to which nothing can compare. You are my muse. You are my heart. You are my craft. The sense of elation you give me is much more than I have previously written or whatever I may possibly write in the future. 

So burn me, you shan't for how could one who is compelling the other toward wholeness be capable of such a thing?