When you lit that cigarette

The bones of me shuddered,

The blood in me halted.

What I wouldn’t do for you to light my flame with your lips....

 

Because I’ve had men tell me that my lipstick tastes of petrol,

That my mouth lights fires,

That my tongue causes explosions

And of course, that opening my legs is the best way to put a fire out.

 

But this fire begins at your pupils,

Your eyes are like matches

And I know that, all of us? We are really always burning.

 

And I’d like to wash my hands in the candles of your stare,

In the sparks of your words

Because it’s stopped hurting.

It’s stopped hurting!

 

And I want to feel you burn me,

These scars are yours.

What I wouldn’t do for you to light my flame with your lips.....