You tell me you love me like a volcano,
with affection bubbling and bursting
through your fissures and splitting your
exterior until it streams down your sides
and swallows our surroundings
with such burning intensity
that all those around us are blinded.
You show you love me in eruptions,
unexpected molten kisses that explode
with such force that the world trembles
and my skin smolders and blisters.
Your love renders me charcoal and ash
and I can not be loved like that -
I can not love like that.
I am carbon and cinders.
I can not love you like lava,
your love leaves me unable
to love anything at all.