I’m not your Dido

My flames are painless for you,

They lap your skin

And kiss your strong features.

So don’t tell me I’m too intense,

It rains on my fire,

And dims my reds and yellows.

How repressed you are annoys me.

You’re a cold stone on the earth.

With my gold fingers,

I’d like to peel you open,

and peek at things you sometimes hint at.

Maybe you need a hammer to come along and break you,

Then I can dance around among your pieces.

You’re so tightly bound, I can’t reach in,

I’m burning myself out.


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