When the sea evaporates, the fire will only be barely burning embers

We were lamenting on men and sex of course, Margaret and I over an IPA pint and a glass of red wine. She was telling me about a friend that people would say was cold-hearted, but Margaret knew that she was merely independent and tough.
"It's like, I want to have a relationship with people, but not the kisses and dinner, I love you's and drawing hearts kind of relationship. It's more like the I want to study you relationship."
And Margaret said that's exactly what her friend had said before.

And we talked about our unwillingness to date right now. She has choices but she's apathetic about working at the kisses and dinner, I love you's and drawing hearts.
"I'm not willing to try, to pursue anything either and I think that means I'm happy." I'm absolutely happy.
And she agreed.

I met someone this weekend though. A familiar face but a person I hadn't noticed before. Sipping on Jameson and pulling me into him until our hip bones ground on each other; snarling when my neck was between his teeth and his skin purple and yellow from my mine.

I was shivering in only bare skin and my eyes were in line with his, but I was straining to see everything I could without turning--in my peripheral a dark spot on the ceiling and the white metal swirls of the bedpost. His face, tanned in front of a hanging photo of a beach where the island native would rather be, was illuminated with blue from the open laptop sitting on the bed, pumping out trance. Fitting music since the burn of sweat pooling in the corner of my eye could do nothing to take my gaze from him. His lips turning up at the corners as if he loved my childish fascination. The stubble making the outline of his chin seem blurred, his maroon lips lighter with the skin retreating away after being attacked, his breath cool as he exhaled my smell from his nose.
It's a moment I never want to forget, but I'll probably have to.

Lust and Passion are both on my shoulder, screaming to indulge them. I'll have to let them go soon enough though so I wish they'd just shut the fuck up and let me be.

He thinks my eyes are the crab nebula, showing him places he's never been before.

"Forever may the mirror remind you of the same; that I see you differently." If he would have been right in front of me when he said that, instead of behind a broken cell phone screen, we would be back at the beginning... I was shivering in only bare skin...