black fire. feet no more on
my ankles, ringed silver, burnt pretty.
scars till i'm beautiful.
you're a honest liar aren't you?
i don't believe a thing you say
but my fingertips still love yours.
i'll do this to feel alive. does it matter
if i burn to ashes to achieve
some kind of light in my lungs?
you took my mouth and tied my
tongue to iron bar
i couldn't resist. i couldn't resist
your flickering white lips when
they brushed the nape of my neck
the meadow-valley between my
shoulders.
you're a match. you're a spell left
unattended. who lit you to life?
who let their lusting breath into
your stomach and let you heave
and quiver and topple into
your first step?
i can stare at the eye of a storm
and not think of my destruction -
face down mountain waves with
the steel of a warrior,
but one look at you and i
burn on a stake.
