100 Inches

Bonfire silhouette,
a dance of flames
on the faithful’s altar.

Undulate, never falter.

You can’t fail
to grant my wishes,
those demon hips,
flick off the heat
from the deepest Hell,
and give meaning
to each drop
of my sweat
that lay puddled
or steaming.

Sew on the shielding
with 100 inches
of white-hot
wire stitches.

I’ll worship quietly.

I’ll worship defiantly.

I will scream “No!”
when your fire
wants to burn
over my head,
where I’ll be consumed,
or maybe even higher,
where all that’s left
is you.

Unless that’s what you demand.


worship I will,
with both feet
in the fire
and both hands

on the hips of Hell.

©️ 2019.

7 thoughts on “100 Inches

      1. I thought of the line,

        “The last button on your dress is the Seventh Seal and into Armageddon we fall…”

        a little too late.

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