My twisted flames of smoldering sinew wisps
can warm and heal, like an angel’s kind grace,
yet just the same,
I can burn with the slightest touch, like sharp thorns of a crimson rose;

Set your eyes on me, you’ll see.
The tips of my feet, dancing tenderly,
on instantaneous sparks, passion burning intense yet pure,
disappear and reappear, like gypsies allure.

As I am not but heap of ashes, at times.
And I wish him to know with what a mastery,
rekindled by his fiery persistence,
heap of ashes that I am, into scorching crimson flames, anew.

Suffocate me, all of me, in love;
defile my senses, leave me deaf and blind.
Drowned in the overwhelming tide of desire,
How I wish I have thee next to me,
my passion will not tire.

To love thee is a neverending rapture;

To be in your embrace, encaptured
by your touch,
wrap me in your shroud of euphoria.
This changeless hunger;
fed and never appeased,
So I, who famish at possession's goal,
Must kiss and kiss, yet receive in return
Empty smiles on empty hearts.

To love thee is an endless longing;

So long as he feeds my hunger with affection,
So long will he stay my being’s addiction.