a bucket of gasoline wants to be oxidized does it not?

I want to be the one you call for, the one you need the one you go for, the one you are interested in, the one you love, the one you get your love from, the one you talk to in the mornings, the one you pull close to you. The one you reach over to and pull close to you.

I want to look into your soul and see what is there. I want to look into your heart, I want to look into your mind, I want to burn down this wall and see you naked and standing there. I want you to see me.

I am caring and I am loving and I will do what I can for what is good for the other. I will try never to put my own wants first. I will be your friend and allow you all the freedom and all the space that you can take. Do the same for me. I will allow you all this space because I want to see you dance. I want to see you move. But this is not a kindergarten. This is not a safe patted room. This is not a cosy pillow. I am a room full of fire, I am a room full of light. I am a room with big windows where the sun is bright. Play with me and set me alight.

I am flame and you are a bucket of gasoline. Deal with it.

Are you coming? Or will you just be just a poem?