Her Love Was

Her love was like a molotov, Spreading across everything it touched. manifesting into everything I'd ever know, Devouring every bit of me in exciting fashion. I became Drenched in this infatuation without warning, Gasoline soaked clothes enticed by the flick of a lighter. I found myself helpless in this constant flame, grown out at every flicker,  its very touch. Bright hues of red. Demanding full attention, her love. I protested my profession in contempt, do I stay, Do I lay flat and accept the spontaneity of each moment, Slowly passing. I held up my sign in an attempt to keep her from crossing the line. A plea of an mistaken cliché, not understanding everything she knew she wanted, Still she fled towards me, Leaving me helpless to every whim, every desire she offered. I stood there lost in desire, A simple decree of something I've never understood. This incendiary combustion that took place out of nowhere. The things said in utter silence, The sound of who we once were shattering against the ground