Lingerie that starts a fire

Dear Lovestar,

On a poem some time ago, I said

(...)
I will be the fire
You will be the wood
(...)

Is it not great how a metaphor turns an otherwise harsh and unappealing overtly sexual desire into a poem?

Since I am misses feminine, I do not have to explain how “He is the wood” (If you do not understand this, aka, you are underage, this site is not for you).

Since he is a pile of wood, a sleeping forest, he only needs a match to go up in flames.

I do not possess any wood, but I have a lot of spark, I guess.

I am laughing out loud.

Eve