Fire

My body aches for thee. The whisper touch of your fingertips pressing harder and harder into me. And the small of my back. And I coyly say to you and ask, "Am I worthy?" Now, I must confess and profess I am not perfect, but I'm perfect for you. I have plenty in mind for us to do. I have no ego or quams. I have no attitude or misgivings towards you. You are the only one I desire. Now I call upon a fire that is my soul to keep you warm and kept free from storms and doom clouds hanging over you.