Tell me, How does one love a fire? How can you caress it without being burned, Without being consumed by its eager heat? A kiss would blacken and blister parched lips, And flames would flicker and flinch At every gentle touch, and sweet breath, Fanning them to greater consumption. Doesn’t the heart singe and scar with the abuse? The flesh of man cannot brush tears of ash From the transparent blush of fiery cheeks, Could never ease the destructive hunger. Though would you not be enraptured By the ravishing, red glow, Blissfully hypnotized? Perhaps you would abandon all else, And throw yourself to the flames, Melting into the fire As so much sweet, life-sustaining fuel. Tell me, Would you burn for her?