There’s somethings about him
Something in his eyes
Some kind of fire- a fire everyone want’s to touch
& Play with
Drawn in as moths to the flame
& Just as the flames hold no control over who comes near
Who gets singed,
Or who’s gently warmed,
He is the same way
So many moths have been burned
While I am simply sitting here, being lovingly warmed
I say that he is mine,
No one can own flame
I say he is mine because he will not burn me
Not as the others who were attracted to the heat
I can see
I can see deeper- the hidden spark which started it all
The gentle kindling, & the fuels that keep him going
They say I love him for the protection he gives me
Or the heat
The light in midst of darkness
No, I love him for all of the things they cannot see
Through the brightness
& The glowing glare
I am no moth
Flinging myself close to him, then recoiling when encountered by heat
I am a phoenix
His flame speaks of home to me
A home I had forgotten
A place I thought could no longer exist
I was wrong
I am so thankful that I was wrong
The flame in his eyes- the same flame that draws the moths in
I know that flame, it is the same as the one that burns within me
We just each hide, & reveal differently