Candle, candle lit. So bright.
Incense trails lead me there.
It’s soothing sways from side to side,
Say, “Hither, hither if you dare.
Breathe my fragrance as I dance.”
Take me, take me, take me there.
What’s your substance in this trance?
“I am vanilla, lavender—
Simmer, Simmer, simmering,
Whatever fragrance you prefer.”
Wither, wither, withering,
I trace your warmth down to your wick.
Slither, slither, slithering—
Lucifer! The fire you claim is no longer lit.
Like this poem? Read The man who Plays Dress Up where I rhyme about wanting the body of Christ to connect with transgendered individuals, specifically MTF.
Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net from user: ‘Marcus74id’