I started the habit of falling inlove with boys
who have second names, when I was fifteen years old.
Half drunk at a party and seeing you at a corner.
Smoldering in the fire of a deep dark secret.
And here I am, dying to take the flame between my lips,
so it may scorch every inch of my being.
I watch you take a cigarette,
cradle the burn between your lungs.
It made me want to reach inside your chest.
To feel the smoke between your ribs, pass my fingers
So I ran out of my perfectly still house
into the hearth of your heart
Only to run inside the chaos of a burning city.