I keep telling you that I hide nothing
that I am unmasked and bare,
when what I really mean is
that’s what I want, not what is,
because my soul churns and boils
and hisses at the core
and the few fiery missiles that streak past you
and make your face glow red and hot
barely begin to suggest
the fire that burns within me
the blazing heat in my veins
that might well scorch you as you sheltered yourself
next to my flame
if I didn’t bank it, regretfully,
with the ashes of your predecessors.

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