A Waxing Lovestory

Blanketed by sunset, we turned on sides to face. Every time our eyes met, shaking hands & making introductions, I could feel myself sweating. Sweating like a candle, lit beside a hot bath. Coyly, I turned to face sky, extinguishing my wick before temptation made home once again; our eyes small-talked some more. Soaking in those emerald eyes, as I did the sun, my skin began to boil, dripping, melting, forming a pool of wax beneath me. By this time, our eyes were well acquainted - best friends even. Then those eyes - those damned emerald eyes - interrupted the chatter with mine, drifted to my lips. Then our lips met, shy at first, but friendly - eager. Without wait, my flame exploded into a frenzy of blue fire, reducing me to a puddle and a set of eyes, rolling in my wax like marbles.