Fire and Desire

As I come around the corner, I catch a glimpse of her. Ususally she can be heard throughout the building, her voice reaching out to those nearby, her laughter beckoning for others to join in. But not today. Her silence is felt like a raging fire in the dead of winter. It is not meant to provide comfort but instead serve as a warning. One that reminds others that it is best not to get to close. Of course there will be those poor thoughtless fools that will tempt to edge to close to see how far they can push her. I have, on more than one occassion, observed such foolish behavior. And the outocme is always the same: they will get burned. By her seemingly coal black eyes as she snaps her head around to catch them encroaching upon her space. Or with words that burn them to their core, flying at them like sparks from a not yet lit fire. At one point where others would choose to turn and walk away, not strong enough to handle this fierce and oftentimes misunderstood element, I continue forward on the scarred path towards her. Though her heat is intense, I forge on. She looks at me intently with her mysterious and deep eyes, her steel gaze penetrating my very soul, seeking out the reasons that I continue to advance. She stands her ground, poised; with an air of confidence that announces to all that she will protect and defend what is hers. But I am not here to challenge her. And deep down she senses that. I have circled her flames for quite some time, watching, waiting. The light within her burns brightly and like others, I am drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. But my intentions are true. So where others have faltered, I continue on, one foot in front of the other, eyes locked with hers, taking the path not taken by others.

She does not lessen her heat or allow for the sizzling and crackling of her flames to die down. She needs to know that those that choose to dance within her fire can withstand her heat - her burn - her desire. As I get closer, her flames engulf me. When we are standing toe to toe, she smiles at me, but not just with her lips. There is a gleam in her eyes as her entire face lights up and the flames encircle both of us. I no longer feel the heat from the fire nor see the flames. At first I wonder if they were simply mirages, merely fragments of my own imagination. But then I realize that others continue to keep a safe distance from not only her, but now also from myself. As though they can sense the heat radiating from the both of US, see the flames dancing around US. And as I part from her and we go our separate ways, I sense people treating me as they have always treated her. Politely skirting away, smiling sheepishly, as if they may get singed if they brush against me.

I can only speak for myself when I say that it was not out of fear that kept me from her. It was a matter of timing. Almost waiting for her to invite me into her firestorm. It does not always burn with such intensity, at times smoldering to the point of extinguishing. At these moments, she appears to be at her most receptive. Full of joy and laughter, friendly to all. And yes, I know what you are thinking; this is the time to approach her - only if you are weak and faint of heart. That is not what she wants. She demands someone that can match her blazing inferno at its white, hot peak, one that can withstand its blistering heat. And to do so quietly with no special recognition for the injuries sustained throughout the journey with her. Her intentions are not to cause harm to others. And she does not expect others to follow the path that has been charred by her flames. Though she knows she has chosen a path that few will travel, she does not feel lonely. People will cross her path, going in and out of her life. I will stay on the path with her for as long as she will allow me. I do know that as long as I feel her presence or see the smile in her eyes when she turns around to face me, she still wants me to dance within her fire. And for now, that is all that I desire.