Your Eyes Poem by Mari Martin

Tendrils of smoke rise
swirling, curling.
Transparant fingers painting images
hidden within the flames
from which they rise.

I lay by the fire
surrounded by the chill of life.
My senses are filled
with the scent of the wood
intricately placed
by the hands of the builder of fires
who warms my soul.

Brilliant coals lie within,
the heart of the fire searing,
leaving burns of desire upon me.
I am hypnotized by the flames.

The water of my tears
pool and flow
spilling over my heart's river
flooded by the rains of need.
Water and flame meet
consuming each other
giving life to the steam
that fills the stilled air
leaving the mist of passion
wet upon my skin.

The smoke rises.
It's fragrance surrounds me.
I breath in,
afraid to exhale.
The drug of it
mixes with my blood
coarsing through my veins.
A wild fire
devouring the forest of my hidden need.

I see you.
Rising tendrils of smoke
within your eyes
masked in waiting.