The Feral Tempests Flames

My bashful, bull-headed knight in shining Nike shoes. 

The armor you wear is a dagger to my side while our eyes are locked and we share a breath. 

A mere attempt to ice over a fiery heart. 

 

But I am fire, 

While you cannot determine if you are ice or water. 

A phantom pull on my shoulder,
For space

 

An encouraging nudge on my back, 
A call, a need - 

 

A sage voice whispers in my head, “keep reaching out an arm”. 

I will -

Something feral opens its eyes. 

 

 

An old remnant of my young, untamed heart, 

She sings and purrs, “show him fun again, show him a delicious life”.

 

A creature that stalks towards pandemonium, with a proud feline elegance; 
that purrs at that familiar fierce, hot blood, 
an intoxicating potential it could sink its teeth into. 

A hellscape born beast that curls up against warm, fiery thoughts of you. 

 

Cozy and wicked. 

 

Finding home once you are intertwined. 

 

To bare my fangs and still wake up tangled together. 

To chase each other through anything, 
to tackle and roll, 
playing and laughing. 

 

 

I am fire, feral, fierce, a paladin, your assassin, your mate. 
 

 

You are stone. You are wild, unbroken, unstoppable, balanced, a victor, my champion.