One flick of the match
And you lit up
To destroy the evenness
Of her functioning

Burning on one end
Glowing ember
Self destructing yourself
As well as her minutes

She quickly exhales
You slither through
The veins and her lungs
Clasping her blood
Her eyes being the reflector of the sins

Everyday those twenty bucks
Distributed in innumerable spaces
For preparation of Her funeral
For the ashes in the vase.