Temperance

I'm not that nice, are you?
I'm the angry smoking girl. I'm the
smoking girl
with the orange hair
I burn it all down
and leave it all smoking
an ashy pile of cinders
I'll ash on your rug. I'll ash on your floor. I'll
smoke in your bed I'll need
ashtrays to ash in. I bellow
smoke, like a dragon, an angry one. I'm the
smoking girl of Racine Street
I will be in your bed
when you come home
angry and smoking
late at night
a glowing tip, in the darkness
smoldering
waiting
to immolate
working
to go from Code Orange
to Code Red
doused
in accelerant
reeking
and stinking

going up in flames
going up in smoke
and
fire fire

FIRE.