Candle

 

She dances above me, hot.

Undulates side to side, pauses, 

sways again, all the while

 

burning. Her eyes smolder. 

I catch a faint whiff of smoke, 

strain upward, whisper, Your name

 

should be Flame. She sears

my lips with a fiery kiss.

Later, she calls me wicked.

                            Timothy Pilgrim