Chaos

You have these tiger lily eyes that like to hide their stripes
I used to be afraid of the power behind them until I heard the stories in your fingertips
Until I read the Braille in your palms
Until I discovered the history of your skin

You are a natural disaster of creative destruction
You are a whirlwind that wound it's way into my life
An earthquake that rips apart my self controlled tectonic plates
A boiling rolling volcano of a person that engulfs me in heat when I stand too close

You call yourself the god of chaos
Which makes me the goddess of serenity
Where you create mayhem, I find harmony
Where you supply dissonance, I dance to a new music
Where you see an end with destruction, I find a beginning in fresh growth

But I want to know what it feels like for there to be chaos in my soul
What it feels like to be on fire
I've written of heat before
But only you can make sparks scatter up my skeleton
Embers glow under my skin
And flames of passion flicker in the windows of my eyes or the doors of my fingertips

Let me trace the maps of your body
Call me a cartographer
I want to know the rivers of energy in your veins
The rise and fall of your mountainous chest
The deserts that appeared in your past when you were deserted

Let me dance with you
Between the stars until we create a supernova
We'll light up the night sky
Astronomers will know our names
And even the moon will be jealous
But we'll speak to her in a foreign tongue
And call her La Lun so she knows we're calling her crazy

Let me speak your language without using any words
Because this moment is a dangerous dynamic dynamite stick
That changes every time you move
Every time you move me
There is a tempting tantalizing tingling that takes over me
I'm positionally pressed, physically and psychologically paralyzed
Playing hide and seek until we're both lost in the moment

I want to dive into the pools of your mind
Leg your tsunami waves of thoughts crash over me and the riptide pull me under
Or I'll throw pebbles into the ponds of ideas and watch the ripples kiss the banks
I want you to be abl to see the wildfire under my skin, a red pink flush that slowly overcomes me like a summer sunset reflects on the clouds
Because you are an afternoon in the middle of august and I am a double scoop of butterscotch ice cream
I melt when you come near me

On good days, I like to think I can call myself a poet
But when I'm surrounded by nights full of talent, I just feel like a girl with a pencil who's lucky enough to have an audience listen to her stories
So this poem is for you
Letting you know that im not sure where my trail of ink will lead
But I want to write you into my story anyways
I know what I'm getting myself into, if you trust me on this
I'm waiting for your fuse to ignite
I'm ready.