i am a girl of storm, ash, thorns, sunset and fire.

let me kiss you with my lightning tongue,
flickering and fast, shocking.
i'll char you into oblivion with the very wandering fingers of my soul,
like creeping fog.

i'm like the lingering ozone before thunder,
waiting,
i am the churning in your stomach.
i am the very pounding downpour, ripping your skin
like eagerly torn paper envelopes,
searching for something like a soul, an essence.
drowning your small bones in my
watery hands;
is this ***** or rain?
it all burns
almost the same,
to someone skinless and raw.

i am grey-lipped,
like some elaborate Persian ashtray,
sitting on a magenta carpet
stained with innocence and old perfume spills.
i am a
steel rose,
with a red, drunken face
growing within the small torments of
a plastic vase.

i am the thorns that sit uncomfortably in your skin,
i dig deep, scratching at your marrow
with my very own teeth,
trying desperately to find substance in your
emptiness
and vacant human flesh.

i am sunset,
drowning the horizon in one million different
kinds of wine.
my soul lays down sprawling on top of the sighing ocean,
and it disappears as dwindling light for the
thick,
forest trees
strong and rooted like
womens legs.

i am fire,
burning like pine-wood embers,
creating dark holes out of off-white cotton bedsheets,
dotting them like black and sienna burnt constellations.
i am scorching,
dancing,
i am vivid,
flaming.
i am soft.
i am raining.

i am a girl of storm, ash, thorns, sunset and fire.