Fire is life. Without it, we are nothing. We need the fire in our lives.
It gives us warmth during the night and shelters us to welcome the great fire in the sky. It provides light so that we may see what waits for us in the dark and aids in completing our tasks regardless of the hour.
Fire also harms and kills and burns. It destroys what it comes in contact with, so that it may grow stronger and continue on. It is the nature of fire. To consume.
There are those who fire has chosen. Those few who have a raging inferno within their souls. They burn from deep inside. It is a sight to behold. To see what these Children of the Flame can do. Some dance. Some paint. Some fight. Others kill and harm. But they are never boring.
She, of the fire kissed hair, has a blaze inside of her. You see it in her eyes and her smile. You hear it in her laugh. You feel it emanating from her; the warmth, the heat, the fire.
I feel her flame when she lies next to me as she slumbers. I feel her heat when I taste her lips. I see her spark as she dances and moves. She is constantly in motion. Even when she sleeps, her body wants to continue to move, to live.
I know that her flame feeds off of me. I sense myself diminishing in her presence. I yearn for her touch when she is not around more and more with each passing day.
Soon will come the time when I am but a shell of my old self. Her flame will have engulfed me, destroyed me, and leave nothing but ash and dust.
And I will happily walk into her fire to be consumed for the last sensation of being with her.