Literature
I Shall Not Fight
Sitting there... I watch you.
You tend the gold and amber flames,
Icy-blue hues upon me.
I feel weakened.
I look away.
Within moments, you are upon me...
Fingers in my hair, large hand upon my back,
face so near to mine.
Your skin smells of wood-smoke and earth.
I close my eyes, drifting out of my body.
The forest: our backdrop.
The nightingale: our song.
The fire: our only light.
Our hearts beating as one: our rhythm.
"Look at me," you demand.
I am flushed, breathless...
Eyes wander upward;
emerald to meet sapphire.
Connection: unbreakable.
"You are mine," you say in warm whisper.
I begin to protest, to pull away...
But