You are the smoky breath of a liar,
the paper in which he is licked and twisted,
and the only betrayal he will ever know.

Could you taste ashes
in the mouth of the other man?
Could you find satisfaction
in the burns of the other woman?

Your eyes are the black and blue bruises of night.
You are loud like broken glass,
quiet like the cracks,
and never saw sympathy in thread fuses.

You are a woman of fire
and love only those with gunpowder hearts.