originally published on October 2018
I want her all over me Like gasoline lover In flammable dreams Imagine her pouring into My match lit mouth It’s worth the burn Close encounters of the Third degree I need her to torch me With one touch call me Her butane baby girl Two ash-reduced arsonists Begging to fuck each other in the fire Pressing fingers on the stove in Innocent Lampad laments Servants of hearth and heart And the heat between my home Face first in her furnace