slow burn

And it's beautiful. Dark pools with brilliant sparkles, infinite soft darkness, milky pale silk and the gentle caress of non-lace resting on curved shadows highlighted with a warm red glow. Unnatural source, but natural effect. And the safety of curves finding their home in other curves. Of never wanting to part. Of slow burning coals in a fire, not the quick sharp snarl of a flame with empty passion. Of innocence and purity and repeated gentleness. Of feeling invincible, but not caring if you died that moment because of shared breath and words. Because the words were exchanged on the same breath so that it became something of both, not one thing said to another, but rather of a togetherness that seemed only appropriate. Of knowing change, and feeling different. Of believing. Hearing it and believing it.