Fear Him, they said,
fear for your mortal soul,

but fire is the Devil’s only weapon,
and I do not fear it,

for I have built my home out of flames,
warmed my feet against the bricks
in the deep months of winter,

struck matches against my skin
to see if I could withstand the agony

of being burnt,

and now I know, I can.

so I wrap my fingers round his horns,
and invite him to tea,

for I do not fear that,
which cannot hurt me