A Song of Water and Fire

 When I first met him, he was a wanderer, gypsy

          his eyes thirsty
          and his body fire—

When I first saw her, she was a wonder, water
          to put out fire.

The fountain between my legs dripped, gushy
          from the same spot of a leaking roof.

Photo by John Rocha from Pexels.com

Fire burnt from the pit of my stomach, hot coals

          and I knew I had a home.

You will never wander anymore, Gypsy, I told him.

Between her legs, she was patchouli: earthy and musky smell,
          sweet yet smoky, a balance of sweetness and romance—
          and for the rest of the night, I tasted her tanginess.

Keep it that way, I told him and put out the fire.

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay


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