your skin is a flickering map
warm as cedar
scented with the coming storm
I don’t need to touch the flame
to know its hunger
I feel it in the air between us
thick and humming
as if atoms trade secrets
before our hands even meet
you are the spark
and the slow burn
an ember dragged across silk
waking every unlit nerve
into a sudden
golden roar of love and fire
and we burn
at the center of the room
a bright rhythmic pulse
that refuses to turn to ash
The Creative Chic
The Creative Chic 
Que maravilla. Muchas gracias por regalarnos esta pieza increible! Te mando un saludo muy grande y abrazos desde Argentina, un placer leerte!
Muchísimas gracias. ¡Aprecio que estés aquí!
So very beautiful, Jennifer!
Thank you ♥️ I hope you’re well today!
Red. That’s what the powerful imagery you have penned has caught in the web of my imagination. And the spider of your words has spun circles around that color and devoured it. Consumed it. Sunk its fangs in undeniably deep with lines such as “an ember dragged across silk/waking every unlit nerve.” Now that color is yours. Part of you. Red forever belongs to you because of “Love and Fire.” My imagination is the prey, and I submit to the predator of your words. Have mercy on me. I am yours.
Thank you so much for such a breathtakingly beautiful comment. You’ve taken my words and woven them into a tapestry I never could have imagined. To hear that the imagery captured your imagination so vividly, that my words could leave such an impact, is beyond humbling. If I could ever hope to stir a feeling like the one you’ve described, then my work has truly found its mark. Your submission to the “predator of my words” is an honor I don’t take lightly. May the red, the fire, and the love continue to burn brightly for us all.