The Weight of Fire Burns

Playing with fire is the game I know best
holding the flame of licentious thought
lead weight upon my chest,
scanning the crowd for beauty and heart
wondering who will take part
follow my rules; choose me for a revolution
a chance part in a mirrored evolution
think outside the box
lay down upon the forest moss for talks
of universes, fingers wrapped tight around hair, locks.

The weight of fervor burns in my soul
turns a shambled life into ashen coal,
I speak of needs with worry and stress
but dreams come so easy, let me see you undress
your soul upon forest floor
peel back your skin, give me gore
our physical form is just a door
to our inner core that always wants more.
I hold the key on immoral brass ring
to momentary peace inside these things
dangled for us like yarn or string
claws retracted,
and what you think is attraction
is just a distraction
from the work you need to do.