© Lee Bullitt, Northern California, 2018

Singed

It seems odd, at first blush, that
this lover of mine
fears less my hand
than she does my mind —
the thoughts that quiet me
close my eyes toward her
and then my body coldly away.

She knows well my dreams to keep her
and hers to be pinned down
her fears overwhelmed by
the certainty of our ecstasy.

Can we sustain with such an
irrational hunger?
How long can we bare
the heat of our fire?
Our skin seems to blister
as we stand before one another
warm, bare skin reflecting warm, bare skin

Aching.

And not knowing.

Never really knowing.