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riotous fires begging to be

put out.

deep empty caverns longing to be

filled

     (the echo makes the loneliness worse, because it's really just you after all)

beautiful flowers aching to be

plucked and admired

not so beautiful lumps of average, patiently waiting to be

polished and faceted and shined.

monsters under the bed and

skeletons in the closet

that i need vanquished by the end of the night.

come, my firefighter,

my explorer,

my nuturer,

my perfecter,

my beautiful knight in shining armor,

so that i can whisper to you that

i've already taken care of it.

my protector,

my claimer,

my care taker,

come so that in our embrace i can tell you

sweetly,

that my fort is already held down.