Lady on fire, things are getting crispy.
The flames are ascending,
And the cold is only weakening.
The rage of those fingertips,
And the voice—crackling.
I am your own pyromaniac,
Feeding you, burning everything.
Suffer the dance of flame,
Burning wildly—it won’t abate.
Okay. I laugh as it rages on,
Perspiring, dancing, and alight.
Burn and burn again.
Oh, how you glow.
Lady on fire,
Rage as you desire.
Photo credit: Ellen Barrett
