One to keep the fire going

Kindle, in voluminous rupture, betrays itself and transforms into a fury of violent sparks, turning the quiet dim of twilight momentarily into a luminous heart of flame. Had this not been a dream, with the same brilliance as that of a newborn ember, my heart and body would have been my own. But, I, being of deluded thought from the culpable ink of sleep, felt the turmoil within as I bit down gently onto the warmth of her lips and tasted a strangers lipstick. If in dreams, we are susceptible to the machinations of lustful passion that ignite our souls, are we not kindle?

I dreamt of adultery.