The stones struck the first flint,
The hint of a spark, the first glint.
A weary twig rescinded to ashes,
The blaze grew as each twig surrendered
The fallen forms a listless fate…
Warmth and light spread from the glow
As she sidled closer.
The sparks in her eyes
Were mildly alight,
Fire and water danced
In them that night.
Millions slain centuries ago
A vulgar vengeance claimed a million more
Yet she loved this same vicious breed.
Savaged that night did she his being
Ravaged did he this living thing
Mounted astride in liquid motion.
Their passions stoked the flames inside.
Man and woman by moonlight and bonfire
Freed of past demons.
War and vice was what they loved -
An instinct born within them.
Much as they gleaned a scent and fold
Of skin to claim their own.
A shudder at pain, a gasp of breath
Snuffled and welcomed again and again.
A fractious friction seared his soul
Glancing as he did into those eyes
Which bore through his being like fireflies
Aglow with lust and dripping with hate.
She loved him but would tell him not
The heat of passion was all she got.
Supercharged thrusting turned languid and limp
A weak moan…
He rolled and thought of lovers past
Blinding light scorched his brain
He must have her, and her, and her too…
Quenching the steel tempered by hate
Drowning the longing borne through misery
A stifled heart made of flint
Sparked passions aplenty.
Another lame twig cast into the glow…
Rescinded to ashes.