Lord almighty, I feel my temperature rising. Higher and higher, it's burning through to my soul.

As Whitesnake proclaimed in a record I bought from the 7EX record bar way back in 1987, here I go again! Theme Thursday madness is upon us. Once again, the masters that be have challenged me to stretch credulity as taut as possible to extend my post to the nominated theme.

So what is it? Could those who are sitting there shouting “ROSE” or “FLOWERS” at their monitors/laptops please kindly call the local authorities for help. Screaming at computers, it ain't natural, is it? No, it's nothing flora-related at all. It is, in fact, FIRE! No, like the humble rose above, it’s a common [clichéd?] literary conceit to utilise fire as a metaphor for both desire, as well as love. Although the simple rhyme no doubt helps, the frequent recourse to the fire/desire allegory must have something going for it, right?

Now, I know desire – oh lordy, don’t I know it – and I know what it is to feel love. I am also aware that desire and love are most certainly not one and the same. That said, anyone who tells me that they experience a “romantic” form of love without a healthy dose of good old fashioned carnal lustdesire is obviously wired somewhat differently than I...

So we can agree that love and desire are different – albeit related – concepts. They’re obviously subjective concepts too, because in my ample experience of rampant, all-consuming lustdesire, I honestly can’t remember it burning all that much. Aching, definitely! Throbbing, oh christ yes! Plenty of throbbing. Sharp, stabbing pain, yes yes yes. Burning? Well, no, not really.

Love? Well, as I said, in its romantic sense, I am not sure that I am able to wholly separate that from the throbbingdesire. Love aches and it stabs and it twists my stomach into knots and it all makes me feel rather queasy and faint, but it doesn’t really burn.

So what are they on about then? Think about it, Elvis with his hunk o’ burning love; Jim Morrison wanted some young lovely/ies to light his fire; the Boss with all that “I’m on fire” malarkey; hell, even dear old Johnny Farnham warbled about how he was left to “burn for you”.

All this burning got me thinking. You see, I have a theory [I have many, many theories]. It concerns a topic that I have been drawn upon to speak about in the past. I sense a pattern than may crack the code!

LOVE.

DESIRE.

SEX.

FIRE.

My god I have done it!

All roads lead to...

GONORRHOEA!