Touch

her naked body writhes like the strike of a match,
while she sheds her shame, like the last piece of cloth on her silky body;
and embraces her imperfection.

the coldness of fingers burns in the warmth of the touch,  
and her soul glows,
as a sickly sweet pain brightens her entire existence.


the fire intensifies, on command Of a Goddess within her
who waits for the moment
when the fire can shamelessly devour her, as the flames
rise higher till they reach the gates of Heaven.