My Poetries like a Flame
& I hope she keeps it's candle lit
My Warmth, pressed against her skin
Thats effortlessly comforting
Will she have to come out those clothes;
My flame remains presumptuous
Temperature set; just below a heavy roast
Thats where, the skin begin to sweat & them clothes become a load
... a course shes well exposed
But more so is she edible
My Poetries like a flame
& I hope the world can keep it's
candle lit
Spread quickly, like a metaphor in a field of tall grass;
Though my physique is dense.
Consequently; it remains ferocious
I sit & take a moment
Just to notice as my environment catching a blaze
My Poetries but a Flame