The Fire Game

I miss your touch.

I miss your slow-whispered words. 

I burn thinking of you all day and night,

I lost my sleep. The only dream

I have with open eyes is how you wave

like a snake your seductive hips.

I dream about approaching me 

with lustful flames in your eyes.

I lost my sleep. I miss 

your tempting silhouette,

the sweet scent of your scattered hair,

the shimmer of your inviting legs,

the aroma of the soft sheets.

I want to glide the slow-dancing flames

of my hands, reaching down

to the thirsty wings

of your trembling butterfly.

I miss her seductive fly.

I lost my sleep. I miss

the pleasure to dive 

into your hidden paradise.

I want to feel your body moves 

like a slow dancing dune.

I miss your silky pulse inside

that drives me wild.

I miss to feel your slow raising fire;

the unconscious gasp 

when you get released.

I miss the swirling storm 

before the volcano eruption;

that completes me as a desired man.

I still feel on my lips the honey dew

I used to drink. 

I want to make your body sing. 

I know, the magic is gone.

It was the last night we spent.

Saying nothing, you close the door. 

I made a mistake letting you go. 

After all, I’m a cracked and a hollowed man.

With other girls, the fire game 

will never be the same.

By Petrouchka Alexieva

From: United States