Flames the Color of Roses

Kiss me,
I don't care if the thorns
Protecting you pierce
Me, changing my lips from pink,
The hue of dawn after a
Hurricane,
To red, the shade of blood
That runs in my veins, aching
For your knuckles caressing my jaw,
Your thumb along the corner
Of my mouth, eyes hooded and yet
Filled with exhilaration and content

We lay in bed,
The world black and white
Except for the silver of yours, the
Green of mine
Two hours, three, five, eight,
Conversations sleepily mumbled,
My arm draped over your neck, your
Fingers trailing through my hair,
Protecting me from the monsters
Under my bed
And the demons locked into my head
As your smile paints galaxies into my eyelashes,
Rather than a broken heart

I am a masked rogue,
Chaotic good,
With soothing lies and charisma
Yet his eyes narrow when I attempt
To play with him
He catches me, challenges me, comforts me,
Understanding the complexity of
Our natures
In a different way than others
He calls everyone else
Normals,
His hand around my wrist, his lips
On my pulse
Telling me,
That I'm something different,
Indescribable,
Equal.

A wolf, stalking his threat,
Yet offering it food, and protecting it
From the cold of the winter wind
He is distanced, aloof,
An arrogant facade,
Quick to temper,
Narcissistic, scary, intelligent,
Yet I know him as everything
They think he is not.
His calm words, his laughs,
The way he rarely grins
With anyone else,
How he struggles to say
Goodbye,
The ice protecting his heart from a past gone wrong
Melting
In the fire of my breath
Pulling me into his arms
And his kiss, soft as a rose's
Petals,
Imprinted into my skin