The push and pull of physical lovemaking.
There’s a howling wind
stirring through the night.
There’s a torch that’s catching the tail of my kite.
Her wildfire burns
While it tickles and churns
It plants an ember, and then it turns
I try and build a Fire-line
to Hold on fast to what is mine.
I resist being taken over, then
I remember her sweet soft clover.
I’m getting warmer, I’ve got no more fight.
I’m over the edge, and I ignite.
I need a controlled burn
to ward off the flames as they come.
I need a cool breeze.
I find it in her, there’s nowhere to run.
I gather it in, and I begin to spin;
Start begging for more from her sweet sweet store.
My firewall’s dying; I’ve got no more fight.
She weave her magic, into the night.
Her wildfire spreads from my toes to my head
Leaves me lying helpless
All across my bed.
Wildfire - Wildfire
And it feels so good when she smooths the ashes away.