There's a fire in my flesh
One that can't be tamed.
It tears apart my skin
It thunders through my veins
And if I can not see you
It withers quick away
But once your eyes
Stare hard at mine
The world begins to fade.
It burned him. A bit of flesh pressed against his cheek, and it burned. It burned like it hadn't for ten years.
Those long ten years had passed, and he was a walking corpse. Living in memories of hot flesh against hot flesh. Then one day in his room on The Pearl, a calloused hand touched a scar upon his cheek, and he burned.
He remembers what it was like ten years ago. He was first mate, and taken by his captain every night. His captain was Jack, and Jack was his first. He thought love always felt like fire, until a man with huge leather bootstraps came.
Jack loved that man's boot straps. He would go to every store in every port looking for a pair just like Bill's. Then one day after his search Jack was standing in the galley alone when Bootstrap came upon him.
" I hear you want my bootstraps." He whispered in Jack's ear. Bootstrap wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, and nipped the rough tanned neck of his captain.
" Aye" Jack growled, and he squirmed against Bootstrap's groin.
" Well, come to my cabin. I can…show you an even larger bootstrap." He twisted Jack around to face him, and ravaged the captain's mouth. "What do you say?"
"I say you might be surprised. I may have a bootstrap bigger than your own." Jack winked and strolled off in the direction of the cabins, Bootstrap following with a jump in his step.
Neither noticed a young blonde man in the corner watching his fire burn with someone else.
After that incident Jack grew cold, and Barbossa looked for another. He found a young cabin boy, as innocent as Barbossa was when he was taken in by Jack. And although he could love the boy, not even a whisper of a spark flashed through his vein when the boy would come upon his stomach.
No, Barbossa burned only for one man, but the man only wanted a pair of bootstraps.
Jealousy overcame him. If he could not be burned by Jack no one could. So he marooned his flame, and sent the bootstraps to Davy Jones' Locker.
And he was happy for a time. But then the curse struck, and he spent years in his ship. Slowly searching for cursed gold, and slowly realizing that only one man could burn him. Only one man could make him feel human again, and that man was gone.
Then a surprise came for Barbossa and his crew. Jack was a live, and through many capers Jack was now a captive of Barbossa's and in his very cabin.
Jack reached out to touch a silver scar upon his cheek. " Where'd you get that mate?"
" I…" he faltered, as his skin tingled, and veins felt afire. " I can't quite remember"
" Pity, it looked like a good story. Now about me gettin' the pearl…"
Only one man made him burn. That man was and would never be his.
Everyone knows Sparrows can't be caged.
Fin.
If you want to read the rest of the poem, it is on my page at fictionpress.com.
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